


Correspondance des Arts

by ShizukaAmaya



Series: Correspondance des Arts [1]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV Choi Minho, POV First Person, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShizukaAmaya/pseuds/ShizukaAmaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was sitting on a window ledge, engrossed in the music of the night. Sounds seemed to be blooming with buds of colors, decorating the silence of this evening. The bow flashed in the moonlight, catching my eye. I was looking at the opposite window, the wellspring of this unique melody, comforting my tired mind. A slender figure of violinist, standing in the middle of the room, seemed to be casting a spell on his instrument, awakening vibrant tones. I sighed silently, staying under the spell of this magical scene. Who was the moonlight violinist? I didn’t know. Even so, I’d sit on my window ledge day by day, just to hear his charming music. Music of the boy from the opposite tenement house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Correspondance des Arts](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/177346) by ShizukaAmaya. 



I tore another page from the drawing block, scrunched it up, and threw it away. Drawing plants was certainly not for me. Plants are just a bunch of chloroplasts and other elements which names I don’t remember. And that’s it. I can’t express anything else when it comes to plants. They are more dead and boring, than any other unanimated thing. I’d rather draw this dull still life which is a part of classes for the beginners.

For example a bottle. Empty, ordinary, glass bottle. Seems like it’s nothing special. You can even call it boring. However, such bottle stirs my imagination way more than these green weeds. I’ve got a really important question, connected with the bottle: ''What is its history?'' The answer may be very surprising. Maybe it was a bottle of milk? The same as the ones that thirty years ago had been delivered to houses and left on doormats. Or maybe the bottle was full of liquor? Such conclusion leads us to a few associations. All-night party, pieces of broken glass all over the place, and in the middle of this chaos – our bottle, one of a kind, since it hides countless secrets and we can only guess if our conclusions are right. But maybe it was really a bottle of milk? Caring hand of mother might have left here this bottle, after she gave drink to her offspring. In my mind’s eye I can see children licking their lips and eating sandwiches. Surely, the bottle might have been empty from time immemorial. There is a layer of dust on its bottom and surface, and the bottle itself is dreaming about the past, when it was useful for people. These are thoughts and imaginations that I’ve got in my mind when I look at this ordinary bottle, while drawing it, putting on paper its mysterious history.

But a flower? Just a plant, I can’t look at it in any other way. In a garden or on a table – it doesn’t matter. It’s still a flower, useless creation of nature. I mean… I do know that flowers don’t exist without a reason and have their own function. Pollination, bees and things like that. Even though I tended to sleep during biology lessons, I’ve got the minimum of the general knowledge. What I try to say, is that flowers are completely useless for my artwork. They don’t bring anything new to my drawing, because they do not have any remarkable story to tell. They happily live in a garden, talking with bees and other flying stuff. Then somebody cuts them, put in a vase and after a week the flowers are gone. How can I draw them as something really interesting?

I threw in the air another paper ball and put away my pencil, as an act of capitulation. I stood up and walked up to the table. I flatly grasped vase full of freshly picked flowers, that was standing there, and threw it to the bin in the kitchen. It was my little rebellion. I won’t draw something that is not worth it. I glanced at my watch. It was almost seven p. m. ''How can it be so late? I have to hurry!'' came to my mind, as I put the kettle on, in order to make some tea. I started to tap on the worktop with my fingers, impatiently waiting for the water to be ready.

I garbed myself with a sweater, because autumn was already visiting parks and forests, and evenings became a cold forecast of winter. Equipped with a mug of steaming tea, I headed to the living room. I opened a big window and sat comfortably on a window ledge, which was my favorite place in a whole flat. Filled with cushions, it became my area of dreams and thoughts. ''Were you thinking about your future, while looking at the charming window view?'' you may ask, but the answer would be: 'No.' The only view from my window was an old and ugly tenement house, the same as the one I lived in. Flaky plaster, rusted drainpipes and mossy roof, that’s all when it comes to my charming window view. Nevertheless… day by day I’d open my window, sat with mug of tea, surrounded by cushions, and looked intensively at the neighboring tenement house. Now you may consider me as an enthusiast of an ancient architecture. Or, what is even more funny, as a pervert, who has nothing better to do, than to peek at his neighbors’ dirty little secrets. Well, the second conclusion is almost correct. Almost.

I took a sip of hot drink and fixed my eyes on the window in front of mine. It was wide open. The paint on the window-sill was flaking off, and the interior of the flat was fading into darkness. I looked at my watch. Five to seven. I sighed impatiently and leaned back on cushions. Suddenly, I stood up again, as I realized that I’d forgotten about something important. After equipping myself with another drawing block and pencil, I was ready to fix my eyes on the neighbor’s window again.

At that very moment the clock struck seven and I could see a slight movement in the middle of the room that I was observing. I smiled to myself. Punctuality of my neighbor was still unbelievable.  Suddenly, the room became bright with light hanging from the ceiling, and I could see the visible part of my neighbor’s bedroom. Walls painted in warm color of Spanish tangerines, without any decorations, and dark, oak door, leading to the rest of rooms. Incomplete view of wooden wardrobe and desk, partly hidden behind the window-sill. A big mirror next to the door. I glanced at the whole room, checking if everything is still on its place, but I didn’t notice any changes from the last evening. Finally, I looked at the person that had just appeared in the room.

A slender boy, with a long, brown, pinned back hair and eyes hidden behind the curtain of fringe, stood in the middle of the room, face turned into my direction. For a brief moment he wasn’t moving, staying still, having his eyes fixed on an undefined spot. I adjusted my sitting, made of countless cushions, and took another sip of tea. After a minute or two, the boy sighed. He took a beautiful, wooden violin into his hands, and gracefully put it under his chin. He closed his eyes and for a few seconds nothing was happening. The boy looked as if he is greeting his friend, imbibing violin’s closeness. I was observing everything calmly, knowing that in this case patience is priceless. Finally, the boy assumed the proper position and softly put bow on the strings of the instrument. I moved closer to the window, almost leaning out of the save edge of the sill. I was curious what repertoire the boy had chosen for today. Melodies played by him could be happy and sad, energetic and gloomy. Sometimes they fulfilled my heart with peace, the other times they made me nervous. The mysteriousness and unpredictability were the reasons why I sat on my window ledge day by day, just to become the only one spectator of this unusual concert.

The boy knitted his brows, as he moved the bow through the strings, once, twice, bringing out calm and buoyant melody. Sounds seemed to be flowing from his window, straight to my ears, creating an amazing scene right before my eyes. I could see a room flooded with sunshine, full of people who were listening to the music enthusiastically. In the middle of the room the violinist was standing, fully absorbed by his instrument. I was sitting in the crowd, jiggling to the rhythm, letting myself to be carried along by this light and bright melody. At the same time, I put my drawing block on my knees and started sketching. Room, chairs, guests and him, musician with his instrument like with his best friend. I’m not a connoisseur of music. I can’t remember all these complicated names of sonatas. Rhythms and keys are abstract concepts for me. However, there was something in the neighborhood boy’s play that moved my imagination every single time he performed, creating pictures worth putting them on paper.

I peered at my sketch and, satisfied with the result of my work, put the drawing block away, deciding to perfect my artwork later. I leaned my chin on my hands and fixed my eyes on the opposite window, engrossed in the sounds flowing from there. The piece was so simple that even to my unprofessional  ears it seemed to be just an exercise for the beginners. Nevertheless, the boy was playing with such precision and concentration that he brought from the song a new deepness, inaccessible for the amateurs, who have just started they violin adventure. I rubbed my cold hands together, as the chill of winter was merciless, but I didn’t even think of closing the window. Never before had I done it during the concert, always waiting for the violinist to finish his performance. I touched already cold mug with my lips, but sadly there was no more tea inside. Disappointed, I put it away. The last notes of the piece were played and the deathly hush fell. Sounds of the city, still awaken and lively, were fast bursting into this silence, taking possession of it. I watched as the boy put his instrument on its place gently. Then he disappeared from my field of view, heading to the other part of his room, always hidden behind the window-sill. After a few minutes the light was turned off and I couldn’t see anything else in the darkness of my neighbor’s room.  I sighed silently, just like I did every night.

While falling asleep, I had the buoyant melody in my ears and the room flooded with sunshine under my eyelids. I was dreaming about a slender violinist, gilded by his music.

***

I was suddenly awaken by a coughing fit. I abruptly took a breath, trying my best not to suffocate to death. Damn. I shouldn’t have left the window opened for whole night. Having dispatched with the persistent cough, I looked around, a bit puzzled. I was sitting in a huge lecture hall and for a few minutes I couldn’t understand how did I get here.

'Hey… what are you doing?' I heard a quiet voice, which belonged to a blond guy on my left. He was sitting with his legs crossed and the mobile phone turned on under the desk, surfing on the internet. From the other corner of the hall, I heard the monotonous voice of the art history professor. I rubbed my face, realizing that I fell asleep during lecture and slobbered the whole desk.

'You had a hard night, hadn’t you?' The blond guy spoke again. I looked at him uncomprehendingly, wondering why this stranger was talking to me. Finally, I came to a conclusion that I do not even care about his reasons. I leaned my chin on my hand, trying my best to concentrate on anything else than the watch hung on the wall. Its hands were moving incredibly slowly. Even though I ignored the snippy guy sitting next to me, he decided not to leave me alone, clearly interpreting my silence in a wrong way.

'Mhmmm, I see,' he mumbled, nodding his head. I was staring at him like at an idiot, trying to guess what he has on his mind, but he didn’t seem to care about my reaction.

'I guess you had a late-night guest who overstayed the visit,' the guy assumed, absolutely proud of his deduction. 'Is she pretty?' he asked, moving his eyebrows suggestively.

'Fuck off, man. I don’t know what you’re talking about,' I grunted, thinking of what I was actually doing last evening. Before my eyes, I saw the neighborhood violinist again. His slender fingers holding the bow tightly, his eyes hidden behind the fringe. I still couldn’t believe that the boy had never paid any attention to the uninvited guest of his performances. He had not glanced at the opposite tenement house even once. At the beginning, I was hiding behind the window-sill, watching him shyly, worrying that I could scare him away. However, when I noticed the open ignorance of my neighbor, I took it as a silent permission. Maybe he was glad to have someone who listens to his music and appreciates his talent. But, in fact, we had never even exchanged glances nor words.

I gave the weird guy a once-over. He had short, blond hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in a coat and looked as if he had just came back from a long journey. He was sitting nonchalantly, but on his desk there was not a trace of any pans or pencils. The guy was looking at me with suspiciously friendly smile on his face.

'I do not know you. Are you a newbie?' I asked, not quite sure if I even care about the answer.

'Kinda,' he said mysteriously. I raised my eyebrows, and the guy giggled. 'I’m not a student,' he explained.

'So, how did you get here?' My voice raised nervously, as I got worried.

'Through the door,' he responded, looking at me like at a madman.

'Who, the hell, is a madman in here?' came to my mind. I suddenly felt really unsafe. If an average madman was able to come to the lecture hall so easily, he could as well pull a gun and kill everyone around him.

'What for?' I asked, trying to sustain the conversation and, at the same time, draw the professor’s attention to the intruder, that should be turned out.

'I came here to kill all of you, since art is something that I hate the most in this world,' he said, and I could see the devilish sparkle in his eye, as he was clearly reading my mind.

'Great. The madmen with superpowers,' I thought bitterly, trying not to show him that I was scared.

'And The Arts Academy is the best place to give vent to my feelings, isn’t it?' he said, looking around with a disgust on his face.

I was frantically trying to find a way to alarm the security and, at the same time, not to become the first victim of this crazy blond guy, when I heard an unexpected giggle.

'Do you really believe in what I said?' he asked, looking at me with raised eyebrows. 'You must be crazy!' The guy was laughing so hard that he almost fell off his chair. 'Calm down, man. I’m here to make a little recognition,’ he explained, getting more serious, ‘But I think I’ve collected enough information. Have a nice day. See ya!’ He waved goodbye to me with a crazy smile on his face, and got out of the hall, unseen by the rest of students.

I certainly did not like the ''see ya'' and I shrank, as I imagined meeting this madman again.

***

Seven o’clock. My face became illumed with a lost beam of light, oozing from the opposite window. An elegancy of the night sky’s navy, was blemished by the fulgent glow of the city. I leaned my chin on my hand and closed my eyes, waiting for the music to soothe me.

I was listening to the rustle of the city, when I suddenly heard sharp, high-pitched noises made by my neighbor’s instrument. There was something disturbing in the melody that the boy was playing. I opened my eyes, surprised. The violinist was standing in the middle of his room, in the same place as always. His hair and clothes were messy, but what scared me the most, was his expression. Until now he was always calm and concentrated on his music, enchanted by the violin. But this night was different. The boy’s eyes were opened wide as he was bowing strings fiercely. Noises were becoming more and more shrill, so that I couldn’t stand listening to them anymore. I was observing this macabre scene in confusion. The boy was looking as if he were demented. His usual tenderness and gentleness towards the violin were replaced with violence and cruelty. He was looking as if he wanted to punish his instrument.

I felt an urge to do something, being the only witness of this scene. The boy was in pain, expressing his emotions in this grating music.

'Hey you, get a grip. Who are you to take care of your neighbors private businesses?' spoke the rational part of my mind, and I had to admit that it was right. I guess I had just grown too much attached to this boy and his every night concerts. In fact, I didn’t even know his name. We were strangers to each other. There was no reason for me to be worried, was there?

The violinist stopped suddenly, in the middle of the bar and carelessly put his instrument away. The room faded into darkness.

***

I ran out of house, buttoning my coat in hurry. I couldn’t sleep for most of the night and managed to turn my brain off just when the morning came. I was awaken by warm touch of sunlight, gently tickling my face and flooding whole room with cheerful gold. Watching this glittering show I had completely forgotten that I was terribly late. Especially that I had something to do before going to my lecture hall.

I pushed post office door and whined, seeing an enormous queue. I cursed quietly and took my place at the end of the queue. I looked at my watch impatiently. My lecture have started ten minutes ago. I rubbed my face, imagining what the professor will say, seeing my absence. Additionally, I may meet again my friend madmen who’s hobby is commenting on my nightlife. Great.

Chubby woman with two noisy children had been served and the queue moved a little. I stepped forward and bumped into the boy standing before me.

'Get a move on! Don’t you see the queue?!' I yelled impatiently. Usually I didn’t attack vulnerable passersby, but today was clearly a bad day, even though it had just began. The boy winced and turned around slowly. I went into shock, seeing the familiar face.

The boy had a long, pinned back hair. He was dressed in a black coat and in one hand he had an old fashioned walking stick that he was leaning on. My neighbor violinist in person. I looked at him carefully, still bearing in mind the macabre scene from the last evening. He must had brought himself to heel since then, because it was impossible to guess what he had been going through just a few hours ago. Suddenly, I felt bad for peeking my neighbor and invading his privacy. Although I couldn’t see his eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, his expression was inimical. I raised my hands up, to show him that I’m sorry and I don’t want to fight, but he didn’t react. I came to a conclusion that he decided to just ignore me, but I was wrong.

'Who do you think you are to command me?' he spoke furiously, with eyes still fixed on an undefined spot.

'I am sorry. I didn’t want you to feel insulted,' I said, not able to understand what is all this mess about.

'Do you think that your ordinary ‘I’m sorry’ is enough?' The boy looked very irritated, what made me bitterly disappointed. In my imagination, our first meeting looked completely different. The boy standing before me concurred with my violinist neighbor only in terms of looks. Arrogant expression and inimical behavior made a contrast with subtlety and warmth of the musician I knew. Or the musician I thought I knew. People around us started paying attention to our little argument. Some of them where whispering something about ill-mannered youngsters. I sighed silently. I hated incidents like this.

'So, what do you want from me?' I asked, bending over him. 'Should I get you some coffee?'

The boy quivered when he heard my voice next to his ear. He slowly put his hand out, reaching my torso. Then he flexed his muscles and pushed me away with all his strength. I swayed, surprised with his behavior, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything.

‘Now you’re trying to buy me off, you pervert?!’ he shouted loudly, creating a stir all around us. Now, apart from indignation, I could see something else on his face. A satisfaction.

'You beastly, little…' I said, but shut up immediately, impacted by unfriendly gazes and whispers. The people gathered in the post office were looking at me accusingly, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. The real sinner had already turned away, facing the counter. He straightened his back, completely ignoring my existence. I snarled loudly enough for him to hear me, and left the post office, slamming the door.

***

The rest of the day wasn’t any better. I didn’t send my package that should had been flying abroad since a long time ago. What is more, I was terribly late for my lecture and the professor punished me with an order to stay longer and clean the lecture hall. I was feeling like a student from the elementary school.

During the lunch break I thought of how I wouldn’t be even surprised if some malicious dove decided to crap into my dish, but my prediction didn’t come true. Instead of messing with dove, I became a victim of trampling. A stranger from a higher age-group had bumped into me, sending my dish on a meeting with the ground. The boy was apologizing nervously and bowing countless times, until the people around us started to send me intrusive gazes. Again. I assured the boy that nothing had happened and quickly ran away, looking for a peaceful place.

However, it wasn’t easy in The Arts Academy. Corridors of this school were always alive. Music was flowing above our heads, composing with susurrus of conversations, creating a background of our everyday life. Artworks of local painters were decorating walls, ceilings and floors. In this school there was no place unoccupied by art.  Sometimes I thought that these ancient, mossy walls are standing vertically only thanks to the art, which in some magical way was keeping this institution alive, since it was a motherland for all young, artistic souls, still full of optimism and hope. I sighed silently, wondering how much of these hope will become a false dawn.

'Hey you! Frog-eyed!' I heard a voice coming from the other part of the corridor. I looked curiously in this direction, immediately regretting it. The madman that I had met yesterday was heading for me. He was waving at me like crazy, smiling way to widely. I took a look around, searching for help, but there wasn’t any teacher there. Only after a moment I realized that the blond guy was not alone.

He was walking arm in arm with a slender boy with his eyes hidden behind the fringe. I suddenly felt some coldness inside my stomach, recognizing my neighbor. He was wearing the same clothes as the ones that I saw this morning, which made him and his friend stand out in a crowd full of students in school uniforms. How could it be that nobody noticed it? The boy was explicitly defying everything his friend was saying, not even wanting to listen to him. With a stubborn expression he let himself to be carried by arm, for the whole time showing his clear disapprobation of this incident. Finally, they stood right before me, and the blond guy smiled even more widely than a minute ago.

'Hi,' he greeted me, and I nodded hesitantly, since I couldn’t be sure what this crazy man is able to do. He tenderly looked at the sulky boy, still holding his arm tightly.

'Taemin, I’ve found you a friend,' he said proudly. I raised my eyebrows in confusion, looking at the madman, who he seemed to really be, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything, because the blond guy suddenly pushed his friend into my direction. The boy made a hesitant step forward, and leaned on my chest, reaching for my arm to hold it tightly, just like he did with the madman’s. I stiffened immediately, unable to understand what is actually going on.

'I think you’ll be a good friends,' said the madman and left. I turned my head, confused, looking for explanation in the expression of the boy, but he was already wearing his mask of antipathy to the whole world.

'Taemin, right?,' I asked, after a long moment of awkward silence. The boy took his breath abruptly when hearing my voice. Then he frowned inimically and I felt even more confused with his behavior. His features hardened, as he attacked me with a new source of aggression.

'Are you deaf or just stupid?' he asked mischievously, 'Maybe both, huh? Get a move on, I do not want to be late for my first lecture.' I listened to his commanding words with raised eyebrows, but he didn’t react to my expression, and pulled me in an undefined direction. I had no idea what had I just got entangled in, but for some unknown reason I decided to help the boy in finding his lecture hall. Only once.

 


	2. Chapter 2

I yawned loudly, expressing my sleepiness. I was drawing my homework for whole night and didn’t have a chance to rest. Rubbing my eyes, I looked around the courtyard. A group of giggly girls dressed in school uniforms was sitting on a bench. The air was filled with annoying squeak of their flutes, on which they were clearly trying to play. I rubbed my temples, sensing upcoming headache. Then I headed to the way out of courtyard, which was leading to the parking area, situated next to the western wall of the school building.

The parking area was usually empty, because most of the students were commuting by buses or on bikes, which were kept near the eastern gardens. I glanced at the cars, standing in a row, immediately noticing a huge, black vehicle with its body shining portentously. Never before had I seen this car. Undoubtedly, it was a new toy of some prissy kid, who was using it to show the whole world his or her high social status.

I raised my eyebrows, when a man in a suit got out of the vehicle. The stranger walked up to the back door of the car and opened it obligingly, at the same time helping the passenger to get out.

On the asphalt a slender boy was standing. He was dressed in our school uniform. The green fabric of the trousers was perfectly fitted to his thin legs and the white shirt was only a few tones brighter than his pale face, barely visible behind the curtain of thick hair. The boy’s outfit was completed with a pair of elegant shoes, shining in the morning light. Well, I guess that just sneakers would be way to ordinary for him. Apart from default attributes of a student, such as the uniform or a violin case, which the chauffeur was putting on the boy’s arms, he was equipped with his old-fashioned, wooden walking stick, held in a right hand.

‘Oh, look who’s here,’ I accosted him, getting closer to the boy, holding my hands in my pockets. Taemin winced and slowly turned his head into my direction. His face was painted with impatience.

‘Why are you so late? Because of you, I won’t get to my lecture hall on time,’ he attacked me instead of greeting. I stopped walking, surprised with his harsh words. Was he really thinking that I will be his nanny? He was a big boy, able to check the timetable on his own. I decided to tell him so, but the boy reached for my arm, just like he did the day before, and stopped moving. Waiting for me to show him his way to the lecture hall. I sighed heavily.

‘Okay, fine. But why don’t we walk in a normal way?’ I asked, looking tellingly at his hand that was holding my arm. Taemin not only did not answer, but also grabbed my arm even tighter. I decided not to protest anymore, a bit baffled with his touch, and started walking towards the school.

All the way to the lecture hall, Taemin did not say a word. He was walking silently, with his head down, letting me to conduct him through corridors. I was surprised with his behavior. Usually, the new students had eyes in the back of their heads, enchanted with unique ambiance of this school. In the corridors a lot of things were happening. Musicians, dancers, painters and poets. Students of The Arts Academy are unconstricted when it comes to rules of keeping the place in silence and neatness. They let themselves to be carried away by their artistic self, making a shrine of art out of each corner of the building. Nevertheless, Taemin stayed unimpressed. He was walking with his eyes fixed on the floor, indifferent to amazing paintings, decorating the walls and colorful, stained glass in windows, which were letting in the rainbow light, painting students’ hair. I couldn’t believe that this insensitive person was at the same time the violinist whose music could bring me to tears. Even though he had his violin case on his arms, I couldn’t even imagine him playing the music of the night. I’ve always thought that the art is truly the art only when the artist is putting his whole soul into it. That’s why Taemin’s night performances suddenly seemed to be just an irreverent masquerade, masterful hoax and I was the one who fell for it, believing in honesty of feelings, that could be heard in neighborhood boy’s music. Nevertheless, when he had violin in his hands...

I looked at Taemin carefully, trying to figure him out. I had to admit that he was really pretty for a boy. Not handsome. Pretty, just like little girls in costumes of snowflakes, playing in shows at school. This unusual sensation was even more highlighted by the boy’s haircut. Taemin wasn’t one of these longhaired guys in army boots and having chains pinned to their belts. Boys like that usually didn’t even wash their hair, not to mention using a comb. Taemin’s hair was perfectly kempt, just like hair of preppy should be. However, its extraordinary length and the thick fringe, covering the whole forehead and the part of eyes, combined with delicate beauty of face, made you feel, as if you were looking at a girl who was trying to be a boy, not otherwise.

‘Oh, mister Lee, I was looking for you.’ We heard a voice of a professor. He was walking in our direction, gasping heavily, as if he were running for whole day. Finally, he stood before Taemin, in my opinion – a bit too close to him, and grasped his arms. ‘I wanted to talk to you about the project for the Arts Unity Day, mister Lee.’ The professor was speaking deliberately, as if he were dealing with a little child or a person mental defective. Taemin was clearly annoyed with his behavior, because he snuffled with indignation, but I nipped his arm, to keep him quiet. Professor Kim was getting angry very easily and newbies often dug themselves into a hole, not knowing how to deal with this teacher. I smiled brightly, just to divert the professor’s attention from simmering Taemin. I didn’t quite understand why the boy’s reaction was so sharp, but it wasn’t so important at that moment. People like him usually has their own personality quirks and Taemin clearly wasn’t an exception. I guess my acting worked, because mister Kim looked at me and smiled, too, suddenly really happy about something, I didn’t know exactly what.

‘I can see that you’ve already found a friend that will take care of you. Less work for me,’ he said, looking at me tellingly. Great. Rich young master needs a nanny, because he can’t find a washroom without help. Who am I? A kindergarten teacher? I guess everyone in the whole world decided to make me a servant of this bumbling kid. The blond madman was understandable… but teachers? Had Taemin paid everyone around? I wouldn’t mind it, really. But where the heck is _my_ payoff?

‘I think that mister Choi will gladly join mister Lee in the project. You’ll be a perfect pair of artists, I’m curious what your collaboration will result in,’ said the teacher, having a weird sparkle in his eyes. Then he left, not even taking trouble to explain what is this all about.

‘Take me to a courtyard,’ ordered Taemin, still looking at the floor. He didn’t seem to be surprised nor outraged, like I was. His habit of not looking at people while talking to them was so annoying. I felt like a thing, not a human being. He was acting as if he were a master that can command whatever he wants to, not even taking trouble to glance at me. Maybe he could act like that at his palace. But not here. I looked at my watch.

‘Lectures are starting in a few minutes’

‘Haven’t you heard the professor? You won’t participate in classes today. You’ll help me with the project,’ he said. I was losing my patience. He expected my help, clearly not being able to get by without it. Nevertheless, he was still treating me like a servant. I guess he didn’t realize that I could just leave him in the middle of this unfamiliar place and stop wasting time for his caprices.

‘I haven’t agreed on any project,’ I grinded out, but Taemin laughed bitterly in reply.

‘Do you think, you have anything to say? You’ve heard what the professor said and I guess you don’t want to confront him? You’re too smart for that,’ he said viciously. Even though I was irritated by his behavior, I couldn’t fight such arguments. I would rather spend a few hours for this stupid project, than become a victim of mister Kim’s anger. I headed to the courtyard without a word. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Taemin smiling right under his nose.

Being outside, I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air. I looked up at the blue sky. Despite a bit too cold autumn wind, the weather was brilliant. Sun was flooding empty courtyard with its golden light, adding to each object a new depth. For a few minutes I was standing still, enchanted with this craftsman like art, presented by the nature. Observing playthings of the sunshine, its ups and downs, refractions and flares, have always helped me in calming down and finding a bit of optimism. This time was the same. Thanks to the magical surrounding I came to conclusion that maybe working with this kid won’t be such a bad experience. We will deal with each other, somehow.

‘The weather is beautiful today, you see?’ I started, trying to sound a bit more friendly than before.

‘I don’t,’ he replied, pursing his lips and not even looking around. Failure again. Conversations about the weather must have been too prosaic for our young master. I’ve decided to change tactics, going straight to the point. I was hoping that even though we can’t get along in other cases, the art will lead us to understanding each other. I reached to my folder that I’ve been carrying with me for the whole day, and took my artwork out of it. The huge piece of paper was covered with fancy shapes, that where part of a picture. The topic of my homework was to express feelings using colors. I was really proud of my work, that I’ve been painting until the late night hour. For me, colors were an extraordinary device, able to work miracles. I showed my artwork to Taemin.

‘Look at this. If we ought to create something together, we have to know each other abilities. Here is a sample of what I can do, you see? This is...’

‘No, I can’t see.’ Taemin cut into my sentence. I looked at him furiously. I knew he was an ignorant but this was too much for me to handle. If there was something most precious to me in this world, it was certainly the art. But this kid was making fun of it and of me, too.

‘What is this all about, huh? From the very beginning you’ve been acting like a spoilt princess, but now it’s just a boorishness!’ I said, not controlling my rising voice. However, Taemin didn’t look like if he wanted to fight with me. He cringed, suddenly not so commanding, rather submissive.

‘But I can’t see…,’ he said silently, almost whispering.

‘What do you mean? You can’t see the corridor, you can’t see the sky, you can’t see the picture, what is your problem?! Maybe you should just stop thinking only about yourself and look around!’

‘I CAN’T, BECAUSE I DON’T SEE ANYTHING, MINHO, WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!,’ Taemin shouted. First thought that came to my mind, was ‘How does he know my name?’ I’ve never introduced myself to him. But there was something way more important. Something, that was hiding in bitter tone of Taemin’s words.

‘Do you mean…’

‘I can’t see you, neither,’ he cut my sentence, straightening his back and directing his face towards me, which made his words even more impressive. Up to this moment, the boy’s been always looking down, hiding behind the fringe or sunglasses. It was the first time I could see his whole face.

Porcelain skin was surrounded by brown hair. Under the fringe there were perfectly shaped, frowned furiously eyebrows. But what was the most remarkable element of Taemin’s looks, were his eyes. Misty, hazy, gloomy. They looked as if they were unreal, letting the boy to see the other world, inaccessible for ordinary mortals.

I blinked nervously a few Times, shocked with the view and the conclusions that came to my mind. Taemin in sunglasses, Taemin staring at the emptiness, Taemin holding my arm tightly. I looked at the walking stick that the boy was still having with him. ‘I can’t see,’ – sounded in my ears again.

I carefully walked closer to the boy. He did not react. I raised my hand and waved a few times right before his face.

‘Even though I can’t see you, I feel what you’re doing, you idiot!’ said Taemin, annoyed with my behavior. ‘A little bit more subtlety would be good for you.’

I backed away, feeling embarrassed with his words. He wasn’t someone that I would trust in terms of subtlety, but in this case he was actually right.

‘Do not back away. I feel unsafe each time I don’t know what are you doing. Sit down.’ He showed me a place on a branch, next to him, just like you show a place on a couch, letting your dog into the territory of its master. This time I’ve decided to ignore this commanding gesture. I sat on the branch.

‘Why you did not tell me?’ I asked softly.

‘I didn’t expect you to be such an idiot and not realizing that your new friend is blind,’ he replied bitterly. His words were so true, that I suddenly felt very ashamed of myself. I must have been a fool, not to realize something like that. From the very beginning there was something weird in Taemin’s behavior, something that I couldn’t understand. Now all of this, even the way the other people acted around him, made sense.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry…’

‘Nevemind,’ he said, waving his hand, ‘We should get down to work, rather than waste time for this nonsense.’

I didn’t insist on talking about Taemin’s disability, which was clearly a taboo subject. I grabbed my colorful piece of paper, and looked at it helplessly. I had no idea how to act around Taemin. I suddenly regretted all my unfair judgements that I’ve made. I thought he was a spoilt son of a rich family, who can’t see an inch beyond his own nose. It didn’t came to my mind, that there might have been a true reason for his bitterness. The piece of paper crackled, as I tried to put it back to the folder.

‘Show me your artwork,’ commanded Taemin, reaching for the paper with open hand. I hesitantly handed him my picture. I didn’t understand his intentions, but couldn’t bring myself to protest. The boy took the paper gently, and started to touch it with his fingertips. There was a deep concentration painted on his face. I was observing him, as he was examining my artwork with his light touch. Finally, his fingers stopped in the middle of the paper.

‘Here. Tell me, what you’ve painted here.’ With a bit of surprise I realized that this time it wasn’t an order, but a request. Taemin has been changing right before my eyes. Suddenly, I could see my night musician again, sensitive and tender. But this time his caring hands were holding my picture, instead of his beloved violin.

‘So,’ I said.

‘Don’t start your sentence with „so”, it’s annoying,’ he reprimanded me, but he didn’t pay much attention to his own remark, too much concentrated on _watching_ my painting.

‘The topic of my homework was to express feelings by using colors. That’s why I don’t think there is much to tell, it’s just an abstraction…’ I explained, but Taemin’s expression shut me up. His face brightened, lips forming in a soft smile.

‘Oh, I think otherwise. Colors is the topic that I find extremely fascinating,’ he said, tenderly caressing the piece of paper.

‘But you…’ I held my tongue, not to say “you can’t see them.” Pointing out his disability certainly wasn’t a part of “subtlety” that he told me about.

‘I haven’t forgotten about my… ailment. Don’t treat me as if I had a mental disorder. Beating around the bush won’t change my condition, so let’s talk like man to man, please,’ he said firmly. ‘Coming back to the colors…’ he stopped for a moment, clearly looking for appropriate words ‘…because I can’t see them nor understand them, colors are distinctively interesting for me. I’m trying to feel them and express them, using different means.’ He knocked with his finger the same part of the paper once again. The chosen fragment of my painting was covered with an explosion of different shades of yellow, which was my expression of an optimism.

‘Yellow…’

‘Oh, yellow is such a funny color.’ Taemin was gently touching yellow stain in the middle of the picture, bright smile painted on his face. ‘For me, yellow is a warmth of sunshine, touching my face, that I can feel every morning. I guess I can say that I wake up in yellow,’ he said. I was listening to his words with interest, enchanted with his way of seeing the world. ‘Do you know, why it is so funny? Jonghyun hyung says that there are yellow cabs in New York! Can you even imagine it? A cab in a noble color of the sun? Subtlety of sunshine combined with whir of a car? For me it’s unbelievable, I can’t understand it at all!’ Taemin was speaking, gesturing his hands lively.

‘Who is Jonghyun hyung?’ I changed the subject, not sure how to replay on his words.

To be honest, Taemin’s observation made me feel ashamed. As an artist I’m sensitized to artistry, that appears in everyday life. But my disabled neighbor’s point of view was something completely new. His way of describing reality, based on sound and touch, was giving a deeper image of this world, than this available for an average person.

‘My friend. You’ve met him before,’ said Taemin.

‘You mean this madman, who is planning to devastate The Arts Academy?!’ Right before my eyes I saw the crazy blond guy, who was appearing and disappearing in unexpected moments. Taemin laughed lightly, hearing my description of Jonghyun.

‘Maybe he sometimes acts like a weirdo, but he’s a good human,’ he said a bit tenderly. ‘Anyways, he would never do such nefarious thing as ruining this shrine of art. He’s an artist, too.’

‘He?! What kind of artist?’ I could not even bring myself to imagine this guy in a different role, than just a madman, who is spending his time on giving people a sudden heart attacks.

‘Hyung is a musician, like me. He’s really talented, he plays guitar and piano, and his voice… ah… it’s been a long time, since he sang for me last time,’ Taemin said. His voice was so sad, that I felt an urge to pat his back comfortingly. The boy stiffened under my touch.

‘So… what is this Arts Unity Day about?’ I asked, interrupting an awkward silence.

‘You’re the one who should explain traditions of your school,’ he said accusingly, making me feel a bit ashamed. I’ve never been taking part in life of the school, always avoiding all kinds of events. I’m not an anchorite, I just don’t like to work more, than it’s necessary. Yes, I’m just a couch potato. Anyways, I could feel that the boy’s attitude changed dramatically. He became cold and inimical again, acting as if our conversation about colors and art did not even happen. ‘You should guess just by the name of the event,’ Taemin continued with impatient tone of voice. When I was still staying silent, he sighed, annoyed. ‘Why hyung have chosen such an idiot?’ his rhetorical question hurt my pride. This kid was questioning my intelligence again.

‘Could you just stop calling me stupid?’ I growled, irritated. Taemin’s eyebrows raised, as he crossed his legs and arms in a bossy pose.

‘I say what I think,’ he said sharply.

‘Is this the subtlety you told me about?’ My patience for his humors was quickly running out.

‘Isn’t the freedom of speech one of human rights from centuries?’ he said vaguely, but proudly.

‘Historical facts won’t change your lack of manners. I forgave your previous impoliteness, but that’s enough…’

‘You forgave me?’ cut in Taemin, with a disdain in his voice. ‘You sound extremely prudently, but it does not change a thing. I will not collaborate with someone, who is ignoring my rights,’ he said distinctly and turned his head, so that I couldn’t see his face.

Without a single word I stood up, took my folder and headed to the exit, leaving Taemin alone with himself.


	3. Chapter 3

A few wet leaves fell from the sky and stuck to my window sill. I brushed them off impatiently. The moonlight was fully consumed by the black clouds above me. I looked at the window in front of mine, which was still fading in darkness, still not brighten up by the neighborhood boy.

No. I won’t listen to it again. I won’t pry into his business. He can play on his pretty violin, I don’t care. He told me clearly that he didn’t want my companion. I will not insist, why should I?

The slender boy appeared in the middle of the dark room. His face was a mosaic of flares and shadows, as he was putting his violin under his chin.

No, no, no. I won’t fall for his tricks again. 

I covered my ears with my hands, like a little child, trying to stop those sounds from settling inside of my head. Unsuccessfully. In the buzz of the city I suddenly heard lonely, sad melody of Taemin’s violin.

I was trying to concentrate on anything else so badly, but trembling music was bursting into my thoughts, at first shyly, but getting braver with every passing second. I rubbed my face with my hand, as I hesitantly looked in the forbidden direction. I opened my eyes widely, surprised. Although my neighbor’s room was flooded with darkness, I was almost sure that I saw shiny tears on the violinist’s cheeks. Taemin was crying. I felt sudden urge to comfort this lonely boy, who had only his violin as a friend .

I stood up quickly and started to walk around my room, rubbing my temples and trying to sort out those chaotic thoughts running inside of my head.

Hypothesis no. 1: Taemin was suffering.

I glanced at the opposite tenement house again. No doubts that Taemin was in pain. Looking through the open widow I could see how the boy is drowning in an endless sadness.

Hypothesis no. 2: Taemin was lonely.

I stopped walking, too much lost in my own thoughts. I got to know two different sides of this boy. One, frigid and unfriendly, and the second, the one I was now looking at, submissive, lost. Which one was real? Undoubtedly the second one. During our conversation about colors I’ve noticed some kind of relation. Taemin’s behavior was completely changing, whenever an art came to be the topic. Then he was taking his mask off and acting like the tender violinist that I knew for so long.

Conclusion: sensitive and vulnerable boy – that is his real face.

Now the question appears: why in everyday life Taemin is acting like a total jerk, who doesn’t care about the other people?

I scratched my head, looking for the answer. Sad, trembling melody that was flying in the air along with autumn wind made it even harder for me to concentrate. Finally, I came to a brilliant conclusion, that some things will be solved in time. I smiled, satisfied with my analysis.

‘There is only one question left,’ spoke the voice in my head. ‘Why the fuck you care about it?’ asked my reasonableness, clearly trying to make me give up on my plan to understand Taemin’s behavior. Not to let my doubts destroy my urge to somehow help my neighbor, I just stopped thinking and looked at the opposite window. I let myself to be carried away by the windy music of the night.

 

***

I glanced at my watch. Five to eight. I sighed silently. I intentionally came here a bit earlier than usually, just to manage to meet Taemin, but his black car was nowhere to be seen. I’ve been standing for half of an hour like complete fool, looking at the car yard, waiting.

‘What are you waiting for, you idiot? This kid will not even care about you being here,’ spoke the voice in my head. I started to walk around the car yard, just to have anything more to do, than standing and thinking about my own foolishness. People were rushing straight to the academy’s door to be on lectures on time. I looked at my watch again. Only three minutes left. I snorted impatiently, wondering if I should just stop acting like an idiot and start behaving like a good student.

Then I finally saw the black car, that I’ve been waiting for. The driver parked quickly and got out of the vehicle to help the passenger. This time I knew the reason for his specific behavior. I heard the chauffeur’s voice asking if he should help the boy to find his lectures hall, but the proposition was refused.

 ‘I can go on my own’ he said sharply, not giving his chauffeur a chance to protest. The men mumbled something with dissatisfaction, but he clearly did not want to get in the boy’s way, so he backed out quickly. Taemin gripped his wooden stick tighter, as he started to walk slowly in school building’s direction. I was observing his cautious steps, finding out that he wasn’t very good at walking on his own, even though he tended to say otherwise. However, I decided not to share my opinion with the boy. I approached him silently and suddenly grabbed his arm.

‘You blamed me for not being here on time and now you’re the one who’s late…’ I said lightly. The boy stiffened. Judging by his face I could not precise if he’s mad at me, or oppositely – pleasantly surprised. However, it did not last long. He quickly answered me with a grimace of anger.

‘Did I already tell you that you’re a pervert?’ he snapped. ‘How can you paw such an innocent human being?!’

‘Innocent human being? You? You must be kidding me! You would rather punch me with this stick, than let me hurt you,’ I said totally amused, trying to infect Taemin with just a little bit of my great mood. My attempt failed, as he wasn’t taken in and pouted at me. ‘…but at least you didn’t attack me, I’m going to take it as a permission,’ I added, guiding him towards the school building. I heard a snort.

 ‘ _I_ _’_ _m going to take it as a permission_ , pfff! Don’t imagine weird things! I’m still not sure if I want to collaborate with you,’ he said, clearly trying to remind me how our last conversation finished.

‘But I do,’ I answered lightly, discretely glancing at Taemin. I was aware of his disability, but I still could not look straight at him so easily. Even though, my eyes would continuously turn into his direction, appreciating his delicate features. What made me feel this continual need to observe my new friend? Were it his gorgeous looks, his enchanting eyes or just an ordinary curiosity of alterity, I didn’t know. After my words there was a moment of awkward silence. Realizing that the “I do” probably sounded too much like some kind of declaration, I tried to lighten the mood. ‘Your hyung has chosen me to be your guide and I don’t intend to argue with a madman,’ I said, hoping that it sounds like a joke. ‘So… now you won’t get a rid of me so easily.’

Taemin looked as if he were trying to come up with any off-putting answer that would make me abandon my willingness to get closer to him. After a few seconds he pouted helplessly. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life and that conclusion make me so freaking confused.

‘Hey, Minho, cute are little girls, big girls, dogs, cats and all the rest of a pet shop, but raving over a face of a guy is a serious deviancy…’ the voice spoke in my head once again. I quickly looked away and rubbed my temple, already feeling upcoming headache.

 

***

 ‘Stop it,’ said Taemin sharply. I looked at him disorientated. It took me a few seconds to realize what he was talking about. I stopped taping the table with my pencil.

‘Does it disturb you? It’s barely audible.’

‘Pff, maybe for you. I’m blind, but not deaf,’ he said proudly. ‘To be honest, I can hear much more than you.’

‘Oh, really?’ I mumbled and started to scratch the edge of my chair with my nails.

‘STOP BEING SO NOISY, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!’ Taemin got mad.

‘I don’t have any problem, I just wanted to check,’ I answered, giggling. The boy made an offended face and crossed his arms on his chest.

 ‘You boast about your excellent hearing, but you did not even show me your abilities.’ I glanced at the violin case, lying next to him.

‘I don’t play for all and sundry,’ he said, emphatically. I hardly convinced myself that I should not pat him on the head.

‘Is that so?’ I mumbled, suddenly thinking about all those night performances that I attended as an uninvited guest.

‘I don’t know what you’re thinking about and I don’t care at all.’

‘Are you sure? So tell me – with whom you’re going to do your project?’ I asked teasingly. I managed to notice Taemin’s cheeks are getting red, just before he lowered his head.

‘None of your business’ he snarled.

 ‘You really look as if you wanted the ground to open up right now, you know…’ I teased him again, making Taemin straighten his back and trying to look as archly as always.

‘I do not understand why do you even care about it,’ he said with off-putting tone of voice, but a bit less coldly than before.

 ‘Comeeeee oooon, let’s do it together, Taeminnieeeee, pleaseeee,’ I whined in extremely cute way.

‘HOW DID YOU CALL ME?! Who do you think I am, your dog?!’

‘Don’t get mad so easily, I’m just teasing you. I will stop, if you promise to make the project with me.’

‘Why do you care so much? Has anything changed since yesterday?’ he asked, making me think about his crying face, his lonely silhouette fading in the darkness of the room. Something has changed, indeed. I decided to get closer to him and try to be his friend. But I could not tell him the truth…

‘I heard you’re a really notable musician, so I decided to give you a chance to work with me.’ I cooked up an explanation.

 ‘You heard? From whom?’ His face was painted with a surprised expression, what made me a bit confused. Something that was obvious to me, thanks to his night concerts that I was listening to each evening, apparently wasn’t known by most of the people.

‘Um… tongues are wagging… In this school you cannot hide a thing,’ I whispered conspiratorially. Taemin shrank, affected by my words, but his features hardened.

‘That’s right. My abilities are notable, but who said I want YOUR help?’ he asked. When I didn’t answer, he sighed heavily. ‘Do you even know what  project we’re talking about?’

I felt triumph, as Taemin clearly decided to stop being so inaccessible for a moment. Even so, I didn’t answer, not wanting to make a fool out of myself.

‘ _Correspondance des arts,_ _’_ he finally said. My eyes widened.

‘What are you doing?! Cursing me in a different language?’

‘Don’t pretend to be more stupid, than you really are,’ he said viciously. ‘What do they teach all of you in those schools?’ he mumbled rhetorically to himself.

‘Us? What about you? Home schooling?’ I asked, but as soon as I saw his face I realized that I was right. The boy abashed and cleared his throat.

‘And so what?’ he mumbled, defending his pride.

 ‘Nothing’ I answered lumpishly, trying to figure out how to change this problematic subject. ‘So… what about this corr... corrae.. um?’ I stuttered and the boy giggled. I should have been annoyed since he was clearly laughing at my poor language skills. Even so, rather than annoyance, I felt a weird warmth inside of me, being able to see such a rare smile on Taemin’s face.

 ‘Correspondance des arts,’ he repeated, slowly articulating each syllable, not even trying to hide a pride in his voice. ‘From French it means ‘synthesis of the arts,’ Taemin explained, smiling softly. ‘It’s a beautiful idea, unifying different fields of art. Even in antiquity people were trying to combine a word with an image or with music. However, a true flowering of arts’ synthesis happened in Baroque and Romanticism. Some artists considered art as a unity, even though different types of art are made of different material. Their way of thinking leaded to invention of opera and drama, which combine many elements of art.’ Taemin was explaining it so smoothly, as if it was just a common knowledge. He surprised me with his information resource once again. Maybe I should study a little bit harder…

‘So we’re making an opera?’ I asked, not so brilliantly.

‘Don’t be stupid! It’s all about connecting our art. Music and paintings.’

I inhaled loudly, realizing something really important.

‘So... for example.. you would play and I would paint what I hear?’ I asked, to make myself sure.

‘Exactly.’

I suddenly saw all these hidden inside of my flat paintings. Paintings inspired by Taemin’s music.

‘Wow,’ I whispered, shocked with this concurrence of events.

‘Come on, it won’t be so hard to do,’ he told me with a gentle tone of voice, clearly misinterpreting my reaction. For a brief moment I was thinking about sharing with him all these images in my memory. To confess that I knew Taemin and his music much longer and much better than he thought. Nevertheless, I quickly abandoned such nonsense idea. I didn’t want to mess our improving relation up.

 ‘I’ll trust you. Shall we try?’ I asked hopefully, wandering if Taemin will finally play something for me. He made a scared face.

‘Now? Without any preparation?’ I heard a little bit of panic in his usually self-collected voice. Amusing.

‘Why not? Are you too shy?’ I asked again, observing Taemin’s flushing and trying to hide it behind the curtain of his long hair.

‘You must be completely dumb. Why would I be shy?’ His voice was subdued as he kept on sitting with lowered head.

 ‘Stage fright is something normal,’ I said, trying to soften his abashment.

‘I’m aware of it. But I’m nervous only when I play for worthy audition.’ His voice sounded haughty once again. I became silent, don’t having intention of displeasing him. I didn’t even expect that he would be so nervous because of my proposition. He was extremely talented violinist, so I couldn’t understand we he was so unsure of his own abilities.

‘There’s no way I’ll play in such common place,’ he said, making me look around the empty courtyard, surprised with his fishy excuse. ‘This afternoon, half past five, next to the park’s main gate. I’ll be waiting.’ Taemin’s voice sounded toughly, as he stood up and walked towards parking lot with help of his wooden stick. I was observing him until he disappeared behind the gate. My face was painted with a triumphal smile.

***

As soon as I entered the territory of the park, I saw a slender silhouette sitting on a bench. There was nothing but silence and peacefulness all around, as the subdued noises of the city seemed to belong to a different world. Alleys and pavements were drowning in greyness of already coming to an end day, intermingling with colorless, autumn sky. The place chosen by Taemin for our meeting was extremely empty and sad at this hour. Mothers with children were not walking through the alleys, couples of lovers were not laying on the grass, as it was during the day. Now everything seemed to be hanged on the edge between lightness and darkness. Even though streetlights were not yet turned on, I saw shadows already gathering beneath the trees, thickening with every passing minute. And in this gloomy landscape, on the edge of a wooden bench standing below an impressive, old tree a lonely boy was sitting. Dressed in a dark coat, looked as if he was trying to become a unify with shadows that surrounded him. Unsuccessfully. Pale skin of his face was visible even in the center of this darkness. The boy seemed to be listening to the sounds of the night and absorb as much of them as he could.

I sat on the edge of the bench, making Taemin stiffen, just like each time someone was approaching him unexpectedly.

‘Is that you?’ he asked tentatively. ‘Minho, is that you?’

‘You chose a weird place for your concert’ I answered. Taemin’s features softened a bit when he heard a familiar voice.

‘Are you crazy? I’m not going to play here. Do I have my violin with me?’ he said, making me realize that he really came empty handed.

‘So where…’

 ‘Let’s go,’ he snapped, as he stood up and reached with his hand into my direction. For a moment I was just staring at his palm, confused. Usually I was holding his arm. It was different this time. I was hesitating, not even sure why. Finally I grabbed his hand and let Taemin lead me to an unknown place. It felt so weird. The touch of my friend’s skin was making me feel extremely self-conscious.

‘Get your grip, man. It’s not a big deal. You’re holding hands because it’s easier this way,’ I kept explaining to myself in my mind. Yeah, that’s right. It’s easier this way.

I grabbed Taemin’s delicate hand tighter. He did not react, walking confidently, since he probably knew this track very well. I was really surprised realizing that we’re getting close to a familiar place.

‘We’re going to your home?’ I asked, making him stop walking.

‘How do you know where I live?’ I heard a cautionary tone in his voice. I reprimanded myself for being so absent-minded.

‘Um… I don’t know,’ I mumbled. ‘I was just guessing.’

Taemin didn’t look convinced, but he kept leading me to his place in silence. Soon I saw a familiar tenement house, situated next to the one I was living in. When we entered a dark stairwell I helped Taemin on stairs. He was accepting my help without a single word and with inscrutable face.

Finally we arrived and I felt awkward entering the room, that I’d visited so many times in the past from the distance between those two buildings. It was exactly the same as in my memories. The only difference was, that now I could see also neat bed and a shelf full of books. I was really surprised realizing that these were not written in braille.

 ‘Jonghyun hyung sometimes reads them for me,’ he answered the non-verbal question that appeared in my head. His excellent hearing was clearly not just a brag. He knew I was browsing through his books because he heard the sound of turning pages. I looked around this minimalistic room, nothing to fasten your eyes on. My eyes stopped on the thing that intrigued me from a long time ago.

‘Mirror?’ I asked carefully, not intending to hurt Taemin. The boy smiled with a crooked smile and approached the mirror. He started to gently touch the beautiful, ornate frame. Then his fingertips caressed the glass.

‘I like it’s surface,’ he said, deep in thoughts. ‘Sometimes I touch it and keep on wandering what would it be like if I could see my reflection. If I knew what I look like…’

‘Pretty,’ I spoke, too fast to reconsider this word. Taemin’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t comment, still playing with the clean surface of the mirror.

‘Hyung says that I’m sweet,’ he said after a short silence. His voice sounded accusingly, as he frowned. ‘But I don’t understand what he means. Chocolate can be sweet. Raspberry juice can be sweet. But me?’

He looked extremely sweet with this confusion on his face, but I decided to keep such thoughts to myself. I certainly didn’t like the new topic of our conversation. Each time I was belaboring the point of Taemin’s looks, I felt continuous irrational anxiety. There were those weird sensations in my stomach, whenever I was thinking about his long eyelashes and soft hair. His delicate features and all of those flares and shadows playing on his beautiful face. Never before had anyone’s looks made me so fascinated. Probably that was the main reason for my anxiety.

Not receiving any answer, Taemin decided to give up on this problematic topic. He approached his violin, standing in the corner of the room. I could see a longing mixed with tenderness playing on his face, as he was taking the instrument and delicately placing it under his chin. I inhaled, wandering what today’s repertoire is going to sound like. When Taemin’s fingers grabbed the bow tightly, I suddenly felt like an intruder, not worth being a witness of this magical meeting of a boy and his beloved instrument, his friend. Even though this time I was invited to the concert, I couldn’t help the feeling of guiltiness, as I was clearly destroying the artistic atmosphere of Taemin’s room, I was shattering the harmony that I’ve been appreciating each time I watched my neighbor’s performances.

Complicated and dynamical melody irrupted into my thoughts. Taemin was finally showing off his extraordinary talent to me. Sounds were rising and falling, along with the violinist’s body, as not only his fingers were playing, but all of him. I reached for my bag to find a sketchbook. I wanted to draw what I hear. Just like I always did, whenever my neighbor was playing. Nevertheless, my pencil hanged over an empty paper. For the first time ever I did not know what I should draw.

I mean… I know exactly what I _wanted_ to draw, but it was such a nonsense, that I eventually stayed still, frowning in confusion. Well, I wanted to draw Taemin. Nothing else came to my mind, as I was sitting in his room, surrounded by his music, played only for me. Even when I tried closing my eyes for a moment, the only thing I saw was my violinist. Misty eyes, porcelain skin, full lips – these were the things I wanted to put on paper so badly. I saw in Taemin’s music nothing but him himself. It was so new that this conclusion made me feel totally disorientated. However, my hand started to work on its own, approaching the piece of paper, creating a delicate contours, a shape of a silhouette. Lines were falling from my pencil, fluidly converging into details…

No. I stopped in a middle of a stroke. I felt guilty for drawing Taemin without his permission. Just as if I was a thief, stealing his beauty and closing it in my sketch.

I put paper and pencil away, so that they would not seduce me anymore. Last tones of the melody were hit perfectly and Taemin stopped playing, putting violin back on its place in the corner.

‘How was it?’ he asked, truly curious what the answer will be.

‘Great. I consider you as a person worth of working with me,’ I said jokingly.

‘Pff… I don’t need your appreciation’ he mumbled, but I could see that my compliment made him feel a bit less nervous. ‘Did you manage to draw something?’ he asked enthusiastically. I glanced at my unfinished sketch helplessly and hesitated, not sure what to do.

‘Maybe we should really think about the opera?’ I asked lightly, trying to change the subject with a little help of jokes. ‘Can you sing?’

Taemin blushed, hearing this question. I didn’t expect him to react this way. I touched another raw nerve.

 ‘Do you know you’re red as tomato?’ I teased, trying to lessen the tension. The boy threw his hands in the air with outrage.

‘I hate this comparison, it’s so plebian,’ he said, clearly trying to escape from unwanted questions. I decided not to ask him about singing anymore.

‘Plebian? So, what would you like to be compared to?’

‘Ohh, there are so many red things. They say blood is red, so red is a part of a human being. But you’d rather compare yourself to tomatoes!’ he spoke annoyed. I was observing him with amusement.

 ‘But the fact that you’re blushing is an effect of a blood in your cheeks. Therefore, don’t you think that comparison ‘red as blood’ would in this case lose its metaphorical meaning?’

‘So you attended your biology classes? I’m surprised,’ he said viciously, trying to hide his mistake. ‘Anger is red, too,’ he added, offended.

‘Why only unpleasant connotations?’

This question caused a confusion on Taemin’s  face. He pursed his brows, thinking about my words, clearly not realizing about it before. He looked really concentrated when trying to come up with an example different from those already given.

 ‘Jonghyun hyung says that love is red,’ he finally said, face painted with seriousness.

I suddenly felt a bit awkward. I didn’t even know why. The word ‘love’ seemed to sound strange and unfamiliar in both, mine and Taemin’s ears.

‘But I don’t know if he’s right. I’ve never felt love,’ he added with a flat tone of voice. I inhaled.

 ‘How can it be? Never? What about your family?’ I asked, maybe a bit nosily, but I just couldn’t stop myself. And Taemin didn’t look annoyed. Just a bit sad.

‘I don’t get along with my mother’ he answered, lowering his head.

‘Even so, your mother-son relationship is based on love and caring…’ I said cautiously. Taemin frowned.

 ‘She does not love me. In her eyes I’m only a doll that she can boast about to her friends,’ he explained bitterly. I suddenly felt so much sympathy to this lonely boy. Not even realizing what I was doing, I hugged him delicately, trying to make him feel better. As soon as I felt his flexing muscles, I figured out my mistake, but after a few seconds Taemin relaxed a bit.

‘You don’t have to console me. I don’t need her and she doesn’t need me. It’s fine,’ he said toughly.

‘What about a girlfriend?’ I asked with a playful smile. ‘Don’t say you never fell in love with any of them!’

Taemin straightened his back proudly.

‘I don’t care about such childish crushes,’ he said hard-faced, sitting stiffly.

‘You’ve never had a girlfriend?’ I was in shock. Suddenly all my teenage infatuations ran through my mind. Relationships that could last no longer than a few weeks. Would I call any of them _love_? Certainly no. Even so, I decided to act as if I were more expeirenced than my younger friend.

 ‘Why are you so surprised? I’ve never knew any girl…’ he said hesitantly, afraid that I would laugh at him. My eyes widened. I could understand being an outsider, but this was beyond my imagination.

‘Um… because… hm… you’re quite pretty…’ I mumbled. ‘I thought there are lots of girls interested in you…’

‘Pretty, pretty… you’re calling me like this again! Pretty is a little girl or a painting,’ he snapped, clearly irritated. ‘A man should be handsome. Am I handsome?’ he asked curiously. Some weird sensation happened in my stomach when I heard this extraordinary question. Having an excuse to enjoy his beauty again, my eyes travelled from a soft shape of his chin to slender neck, stopping on outline of his hidden beneath the fabric of a shirt collar bones. I wanted to punch myself in face for acting so weirdly. I looked at Taemin’s face again. Delicate features were certainly sculptured in porcelain.

‘In her eyes I’m only a doll that she can boast about to her friends’ rang in my ears again. He really looked like a porcelain doll, the same as we can see on display widows of antique shops. The only thing missing was a dress in Victorian style and…

I blinked and turned my eyes off him, scared of my own thoughts. Taemin pouted, unsatisfied with the lack of the answer. A minute later his face brighten up because of an idea that came to his mind.

 ‘What about you, Minho? Are you handsome?’ he asked teasingly.

‘Um…’ I stuttered. Taemin smiled mysteriously and sat closer to me, not giving me a single chance to protest. He reached with his hands. ‘Let me decide by myself,’ he said toughtly.

At first he reached my chest and started to explore it with his hands. He blushed, feeling hard muscles on my stomach and, a bit embarrassed, continued his travel, searching for my face. Taemin’s touch was affecting my body in an extraordinary way. I was continuously shivering, but when his fingertips touched the skin on my neck, I suddenly felt unbearably hot. His cold fingers were searing my tactile receptors.

‘Stop freaking out, Minho,’ I thought, as these curious hands kept on examining the structure of my face. Taemin’s touch was very light, just like butterfly’s wings, and even so it was putting my whole body on fire.

 ‘Your eyes are really big,’ he said, deep in thoughts, touching my half-closed eyelids in concentration. ‘Now I understand why hyung calls you Frog-eyed.’

I didn’t even care about this stupid nickname that used to annoy me so much. I was too much absorbed by this inner storm that was messing up my brain and my body. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt so sick, hot from a fever. I stayed silent, not sure what to say and whatever my voice is even able to cooperate. Taemin’s fingers wandered from my cheeks to lips. I completely stiffened, not daring to move one a bit. The boy felt sudden embarrassment and took his hands off of my face, creating a distance between us again.

‘It’s late,’ he said, even though he could not see a clock, hanging on a wall. I understood the allusion that I should leave. When packing up my things, I realized my hands were shaking a bit.

‘I really must be sick’ came to my mind, as I was leaving my neighbor’s flat. Taemin stood on a threshold for a long time, listening to the echo of my steps. 


	4. Chapter 4

I was quite surprised getting a text message on Saturday evening: ‘Sunday, 5 p.m., next to my tenement house. Don’t look like peasant. Taemin.’

For a few minutes I was just looking at my mobile blankly, too surprised to figure out how to react. Not to mention worryingly fast beating of my heart that has been acting so weird lately. The laconic message itself was intriguing, additionally provoking my confused brain to create such questions as ‘how this kid managed to get my phone number?’ or ‘is he even able to write a text message?’

‘What is this all about?’ I asked out loud. Firstly, I thought that Taemin wants to finally get down to work on our project. However, the fact that he mentioned my looks was quite disorientating.

‘I do not look like peasant…’ I justified myself, at the same time inspecting my old jeans and crumpled T-shirt dubiously.

’I won’t act like some fool just because this boy demands me to do so,’ I decided. However, a few seconds later, contradicting my own myself, I stood in front of my wardrobe.

‘No peasant, no peasant…’ I mumbled, as I was digging in a piles of clothes. Helpless, almost hopeless, I realized I don’t have any elegant outfits, because usually I didn’t need them, avoiding all kind of cultural events. In a final act of desperation I drew out of wardrobe a pair of not quite clean shorts.

Suddenly, I saw some kind of dark rag, rolled up in a corner. I reached out for it, with a deep surprise realizing that it’s a tuxedo.

‘Where did I get this from?’ – I scratched my head, confused. Eventually, I gave up on thinking about the cloth origins and smiled happily.

‘I don’t look like a peasant,’ I said with new confidence, rushing to find an iron.

~*~

Taemin was already waiting for me, with a walking stick in his hand, eyed fixed somewhere in the darkness of the evening. A street lamp was illuminating his hair, painting it with few ginger flares and, at the same time, hiding his face in shadows. Tonight his coat was much more elegant than the last time. I shook in a cold wind.

‘Minho?’ the boy asked, as he heard the sound of my steps.

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ I answered, grabbing his hand fast, not giving myself time to change my mind. ‘Can you, please, explain what is this farce?’

‘Why do you always have to say something stupid?’ he annoyingly snapped. ‘I came to conclusion that I have to take care of education of my ignorant partner. Otherwise, we will not be able to cooperate.’

‘Ignorant?’ I felt offended, but Taemin did not pay any attention to my comment.

‘That’s why I take you to the opera,’ he said with a proud tone of voice. Then he started to drag me through the parking. I raised my eyebrows, surprised.

‘Opera? And that is the reason you told me to look like a clown?’

‘A little bit of culture won’t hurt you,’ he snapped, as he suddenly stopped. ‘What are you wearing?’ His voice was full of doubt. I shivered, hearing this weird question which made me feel a bit uncomfortable.

‘Ekhm… I’ve got a tux…’ I answered quietly, not as confident as I wished.

‘Only?’ Taemin raised his eyebrows.

‘No, of course not only!’ The boy giggled at my annoyance.

‘Don’t you dare bring shame on me,’ he said warningly, as he got into his car.

Our travel to the philharmonic hall was completely silent. I kept on looking at the window stubbornly. I was way too conscious of Taemin’s presence. He was sitting right next to me and it was unbelievably distracting. Even when we got to the place and sat in an exclusive lodge, my situation didn’t change for the better. It was worse and worse. Instead of admiring the beauty of this distinguished place that in other circumstances I would probably never even get to, I preferred looking at the boy that was sitting next to me.

Taemin, in fact, arrayed himself on our evening meeting. He was wearing a pure white shirt and elegant waistcoat, decorated with golden buttons that kept on shining subtly in a dimmed light of the hall. The long hair was pinned up in the back of his head, forming a somehow cute ponytail. However, one lost strand of hair escaped from the ponytail and cascaded close by Taemin’s left ear. The rebellious strand was extremely irritating. I wanted to fix the boy’s hair, tuck it behind his ear so badly. I kept on clenching my fists, trying hard to restrain from doing something really stupid. Taemin, unconscious of my internal fight, was sitting in silence, his chin resting on his hand, his ears engrossed by the music. I envied him this peace painted all over his face. I was unable to concentrate, totally distracted by stupid things like white collar on the back of Taemin’s neck or his hand on the armrest, dangerously close to my own.

Briefly, it was the worst concert I’ve ever attended, even though I don’t even remember anything from the repertoire.

‘And how do you feel after experiencing a little bit of a real art?’ asked Taemin when the show was over, his face still painted with a bit absent expression.

‘Incredible,’ I said laconically, at the same time opening the door for Taemin. A cold wind bursted into the building, blowing away his hair. The sky was decorating the earth with delicate white petals. The first snow in this winter. My companion stood in the center of a square that was placed in front of the philharmonic hall building. He leaned back his head, letting the snowflakes to melt on his face.

I was observing him, fascinated, when he started to gyrate, greeting the winter with unhidden pleasure. When he finally stopped a bright smile was decorating his face.

‘Minho, Minho, do you like winter?’ he asked in the emptiness, losing the direction in which he should speak. I approached him, giving him my hand so that he could feel my presence.

‘Winter is very sad,’ I answered, trying to warm up his cold hand. ‘And colorless,’ I added quietly.

‘I think otherwise. For me, winter is full of colors,’ he said enthusiastically, but his speech was interrupted by a sneeze. The boy was shaking because of a low temperature.

‘You’ll catch a cold, silly,’ I mumbled, taking off my warm scarf and placing it on Taemin’s white neck. The boy snuggled his face in the soft fabric with gratefulness. I glanced at his cold as ice, shaking hands. ‘Why you don’t wear gloves?’

‘I don’t like to,’ he answered. ‘I prefer to touch everything with my fingertips and gloves are precluding me from it,’ he explained. Suddenly he made a scared expression. ‘Don’t you dare warming up my hands by breathing on them! It’s disgusting.’

It felt like he was reading my mind again. I abandoned my plan of warming up Taemin’s hands.

On our way back home I appreciated warmth and coziness of the luxurious car of my neighbor. Silent hum of engine and slight swing made me a bit sleepy. It wasn’t so long until my eyelids became heavy. Flashing lights of the outside world started to slowly melt into one huge swirl of colors. I would probably fall asleep if not for a slight bump I felt on my shoulder. I turned my head and realized that I wasn’t the only one who fought a battle with sleep. However, I was the only one who won it. Taemin’s head was placed on my shoulder, swinging lightly. Soft hair tingled my neck. I suddenly realized that each breath of mine made the boy’s head lift up and down, along with my chest. I breathed in and stopped moving. Cutting-off of breathing seemed to be the most rational solution. However, it couldn’t last long and after a few seconds I breathed out. Sudden movement did not wake the sleeping boy up. I glanced at him, not sure how to act. The rebellious strand of hair enchained my attention once again. This time I did not defy myself anymore. With a bit awkward gesture I tucked Taemin’s hair behind his ear. Then I looked away from the sleeping boy, letting the car to carry us through the night.

~*~

‘Ghhhh…’ I rasped, realizing my own dumbness. I woke up with a burning thorat and a terrible headache. Memories of yesterday’s attempt to warm Taemin up by borrowing him my scarf came to my mind. ‘You’re the silly one,’ I mumbled to myself, barely recognizing my own voice. I got up and on all fours started to look for my mobile phone. It was quarter to eight and Taemin was certainly waiting for me in front of our academy. I felt obligated to inform him about my absence.

‘Here you are…’ My phone was lying under the table. I search for Taemin’s number and pressed the green ear-receiver. Usually I preferred texting but this time I decided on calling. After a few minutes of waiting I heard a sound of picking up.

‘Uhm… Taemin?’ I asked shyly.

‘Yes.’ I heard a familiar voice full of caution.

‘It’s me, Minho,’ I said, just to get rid of his hesitation. Taemin sighed with relief.

‘Minho? What happened to your voice?’ he asked with a worried tone of voice, unconsciously making me smile, because he clearly cared about me.

‘Nothing. It’s just a cold. I’m calling to tell you that I’m not able to conduct you around the school today.’

‘Just a cold?! You sound as if you were one step from death!’ mumbled Taemin, taking what he was hearing way too serious. I looked at my phone, surprised with my friend’s behavior. Overprotective Taemin seemed to be an oxymoron. ‘If you die, my effort to make an intelligent men out of you is all wasted!’  he stammered, clearly trying to somehow justify his care about me.

‘But…’

‘Shut up. Don’t talk or you’ll lose your voice. Don’t move out of your bed. I’m coming.’ His voice was tough as nails.

‘But…’ This time my statement was interrupted by a sound of the ending phone call. I tried to contact him again a few times, but he must have turned his phone off. I stared blankly at the screen of my device, looking for the answer. Helplessly, I looked around my cluttered apartment, comparing it with Taemin’s house. The drastic difference made me wince, because my elegant neighbor did not match with the mess of my flat. For a few moments I’ve been wondering how will he be able to get here, but then I realized that if he managed to get my number, there won’t be a problem with the address.

‘Freaking madmen, he must have checked out my data,’ I mumbled, thinking about Jonghyun.

I sighed and started collecting garbage that was all over my floor. The only good thing about this situation was that Taemin was unable to see tones of useless things on my shelves. But this did not change the fact that even air in my flat was disgusting and I had to open the window to get rid of this smell, typical for the house of a single young guy. I ignored my burning from the contact with cold air throat and lied on my bed, tired.

After less than fifteen minutes I heard a noise of a doorbell, brutally cutting off my sleep. I got up.

‘He really came,’ I said to myself, a bit panicked. The sound of walking stick hitting my door came as a reply.

‘Who are you talking to, idiot?’ Taemin asked in a familiar, malicious way. I rushed to the door and opened it for my guest. He had his school uniform on, violin case in his hand. He must have abandoned his lectures just to come here. My scarf was on his neck and he took it off as soon as he stepped in my flat.

‘I return your property,’ he said, giving me my scarf. I put it on a shelf and closed the door.

‘Why are you here? I’m fine. You can go on your lectures.’

‘This is how you treat your guests?’ he asked, offended. ‘Hi, give me back what’s mine and goodbye?’

I scratched my scalp, not sure how to answer. Of course I would prefer him to stay and be my companion, but it was so ridiculous that I barely admitted it myself and have no intension of sharing my thoughts with Taemin. I couldn’t understand his reasons and didn’t want him to skip his classes because of me.

‘Don’t imagine things. I’m not selfless right now. I’m just aware of the fact that you’ve caught a cold because of me. I don’t like to owe anything to anyone. That’s why I’m here, paying off my debt,’ he explained with frowned eyebrows. ‘Now show me where is your kettle and tea, and go to bed, hurry!’ he demanded and I did have not courage to object.

While Taemin was in my kitchen, I closed the window, sure that he would scold me for this dumb idea of aerating the flat. The next thing I did was lie down on my bed, following Taemin’s order. That was the moment I realized that I was dressed only in shorts and thank top. The fact that I was actually almost half naked made me feel very awkward.

‘Come on, what’s wrong, you idiot?’ I heard a voice in my head. ‘Are you abashed or what?’ I gulped loudly at this question asked to myself.

‘Taemin is a guy, why should I be abashed?’ I answered.

‘Yeah, why shoud you?’ The voice of my reasonableness was full of mockery.

‘Get a grip,’ I said out loud to myself.

‘Are you talking to Minho again?’ Taemin was standing in the threshold with a mug of hot tea in his hand. He cautiously started to walk, touching the wall with his free hand. I quickly stood up, took the mug and helped him to sit on a chair. ‘They say that genious people talk to themselves. Are you one of them? Hiding inside of your brain an intelligence that you don’t want to show to the world?’

I suddenly felt extremely embarrassed, aware of the actual topic of my inner conversation that had nothing to do with my intelligence, rather dumbness. I decided to ignore this maliciousness of Taemin and placed myself on the bed again. My friend jiggled on his chair, trying to find a good position.

‘It’s uncomfortable,’ I said. ‘You can sit on the bed if you want to…’

‘Thanks, but not,’ he replied masterfully. ‘I’m not as easy as you think, you pervert.’

‘You won’t be bored?’ I asked with doubt, ignoring another insult.

‘Sleep, don’t talk or you’ll never recover. Soonkyu noona always said that sleep is the best medicine.’

‘Who is Soonkyu noona? You said you don’t know any girls…’ I kept on teasing him.

‘Ohh, she doesn’t count. She was taking care of me when I was younger. She’s like an older sister to me,’ he explained quickly. ‘My mother did not have time for such unimportant things as her son’s illness. That’s why she hired noona.’

‘You’re mom seems to have extremely absorbing job…’ I mumbled, starting to share Taemin’s reluctance to his mother, even though I didn’t actually know her. As I was son of a caring woman who would give me her last piece of bread, it was hard for me to understand attitude of my neighbor's parent.

‘Yes. You’ve already seen her working…’ he said with a sad smile on his lips. I raised my eyebrows. ‘Yesterday’s _aria di bravura_ … it was her set piece.’

‘Your mother is an opera singer?’ I asked in surprisement, trying to recall any part of yesterday’s performance.

‘Yes. And I am her beloved son who she can take to the parties and boast about him around her rich friends,’ he added bitterly as he raised his head. ‘I’m, also, her biggest life disapointment. You were surprised with my home schooling, about my French… it’s all the effect of her effort to fix my defects.’

‘You’re not defected,’ I objected automatically, because it was something absolutely obvious to me. Taemin smiled weirdly, but his expression was harsh.

‘Enough of this nonsense. I came here to make sure you’ll recover from your cold, not to tell you the story of my life.’ He reached for his violin case, that I put next to his chair.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shut up. Sleep,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll play a lullaby so that you can fall asleep quickly and finally stop chattering…’ he added quietly, hiding his face behind the curtain of his hair. I felt sudden warmth in my heart, seeing Taemin embarrassed with his own act of care. I decided not to irritate him anymore, so I fixed myself on the bed, making sure my movements are loud enough for him to notice that I’m getting ready for a sleep.

Taemin closed his eyes and started to lightly touch strings of his violin with the bow, creating a beautiful yet sad melody. Even if I was very tired, I would never let myself fall asleep and miss this amazing performance. Taemin was repeatedly playing a short part of a hypnotizing song. Sounds were going up and down cyclically, causing unwanted sleepiness in me. My eyelids fell down. Once. Twice. I was fighting hard as I didn’t want to miss any tone from this special lullaby, played just for me. Suddenly the music stopped and for a few seconds I could hear only silence.

‘Minho? Are you already sleeping?’ asked Taemin quietly. I decided to act like I really was. For a brief moment Taemin stood still, listening to my regular breathing. Finally, he put his violin away and cautiously approached my bed. This time he didn’t sit on the chair, but chose a place on the edge of my bed. Surprised, I was observing him, as he was touching harsh fabric of my sheets, weird expression painted on his face. Suddenly, he raised his hand hesitantly. The hand stopped right above me, helpless, as Taemin was clearly fighting with his own self. I realized that I knew very well what he was going through. I felt the same yesterday’s evening, when I tried hard to keep my hands away from his hair.

The hand that was hanging above me backed off and Taemin lowered his head, sighing quietly. After a few seconds he stood up and came back to his chair, where he rested his chin on his hand and fell asleep. Hearing his regular breathing I felt sleepiness again, as well as weird kind of peacefulness, radiating from my chest to the tips of my fingers. With this feeling I finally made my way to the dreamland.


	5. Chapter 5

‘Minho, you outgrown frog, won’t you let me in?!’ I heard an intrusive voice, roughly waking me up.

I sat up and looked around the room. Taemin was still sitting on his chair, sleeping peacefully. His head fell on this chest, his whole figure dangerously skewed on one side. I planned to delicately pull his arm, so that he could sit straight again, but I stopped moving when, all of sudden, I saw a new guest standing on the threshold of my living room.

‘Well, I had to fall sick to make people remember about me,’ I thought, glancing at the familiar face.

Medium-height blonde boy entered my room. His looks was outstanding, completely different than common youngster’s that you could meet on a street. From under a black beret cascaded a wavy fringe, half-painted in pink. He was wearing fitting winter checked coat and contrasting with it, red skinny pants tucked in a pair of black boots. Unbuttoned coat showed a glimpse of dark sweater and white collar of shirt. The boy was resting his hands on a lug of an enormous suitcase that he brought with him.

‘How did you get here?’ I asked crisply. My new guest rolled his eyes.

‘This is how you treat your guests? I’m not surprised that you live alone. Nobody wants to hang out with such peasant!’ he snapped, taking his coat off and looking for a place to hang it. His words were surprisingly familiar but I decided not to think about it too much. ‘So, tell me, where have you been loitering? Your voice sound so terrible!’ he mumbled, shamelessly digging in my wardrobe. I touched my neck, feeling my still burning throat.

‘I was in a philharmonic hall,’ I answered hesitantly. As expected, my friend stopped in the middle of a movement and turned slowly, just to look at me interrogatively with those penetrating, catlike eyes of his.

‘Philharmonic hall…?’ His voice was so full of doubt, as if he couldn’t even believe my words were true. I nodded, watching as my friend is hanging his coat inside of my wardrobe and then approaching me. His sharp gaze was digging in my brain, trying to reveal all secrets of my yesterday’s meeting. ‘You? Philharmonic hall? Are you sure? Maybe you mean some kind of ridiculous night club named like this?’ he kept on investigating, causing a shiver of irritation in me.

‘Is it really so hard to believe that I went to listen to opera?’ I bursted, but because of the cold my voice sounded miserable, rather than firm.

‘Minho…’ Catlike eyes were penetrating my soul. ‘…do you have a girlfriend?’ he asked, causing a shiver going through my spine. I wasn’t even sure why I’m feeling so awkward suddenly, it’s just that my friend’s question seemed weird and inappropriate to me.

‘A girlfriend? Why?’ I asked, not actually answering him and trying to sound as casual as possible. He looked at me with a mocking kind of smile.

‘I can’t imagine another reason for you going to such place, rather than sitting at home alone and drawing bottles,’ he said, watching my embarrassment with triumph. I swore in my mind, suddenly recalling how well he actually knew me.

‘It’s not like that… I… uhm…’ I started to explain myself, but then we both heard a sleepy grumbling behind my back, followed by a loud yawning. My guest noticed the boy that was sitting on his chair, and raised his eyebrows so high, that they disappeared under his pink fringe.

For a brief moment Taemin wasn’t moving, just frowning his eyebrows, not fully awake, trying to recall where he actually is. I quickly approached him and lightly touched his arm, not to scare him.

‘And how do you like my uncomfortable chair, Sleeping Beauty?’ I asked jokingly and Taemin grimaced, massaging his own back.

‘How do you think?’ he answered, grumpy. ‘Why you’re not in your bed? You sound as horrible as the last time I heard you…’

A loud snort could be heard as my new guest, still standing where I left him, was watching us with a mysterious face, clearly demanding our attention. Taemin stiffened, hearing a new, strange voice that he couldn’t have expected. I gestured to the pink-haired boy to come closer.

‘Taemin, this is Key, my friend,’ I introduced, as they shook their hands.

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Key, friendly. ‘I have no idea how did you manage to do it, but you’ve got my respect.’

Taemin raised his eyebrows, questionably, making Kibum laugh and pat the younger boy on his back.

‘I mean the opera. God knows how many times I tried to force him to go with me to such place, but he would always refuse. It’s so hard to drag him out of his house, not to mention any ambitious cultural events!’ he was speaking about me as if I was not there. I glanced at him warningly and he smiled brightly.

‘How do you know we were at the opera?’ Taemin was surprised but, at the same time, I could notice a glimpse of satisfaction in the way his expression brighten up a bit.

‘Ohh, Minho told me a lot about you…’ Kibum said in a such cheerful way that I tried to murder him with the power of my gaze.

‘Taemin, will you excuse us for a moment?’ I cut off this lovely conversation, afraid to even think of what nonsense my friend may say next. Maybe a bit too strong, I gripped Kibum’s arm and dragged him to another room, closing the door behind us.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I snapped, annoyed. Key stayed silent for a few seconds, as he was looking around messy room with a disgusted grimace on his face. Eventually, he leaned on the windowsill and looked straight into my eyes.

‘I’m helping,’ he answered shortly, as if this simple word was supposed to explain everything.

‘I don’t know what is your definition of helping, but it’s certainly completely different from mine! And what you are actually _helping_ with? Because I don’t really get it…’

Key rolled his eyes and sighed like a sufferer.

‘I think you’re more stupid than I thought… and that means very stupid,’ he responded, but did not give me a chance to defend myself. ‘Never mind. You’d better tell me for how long have it been?’ His eyes were digging in my mind once again.

‘How long have been what?’ I asked blankly. I’ve already forgot how is it like to talk with omniscient Key, who has all the answers and who treats everyone as an idiot. In moments like that I was always wondering how the hell could we be friends with each other.

One of Kibum’s eyebrows lifted up a bit.

‘Your acquaintance, of course,’ he answered slowly, as if he were speaking to a mentally disabled person. I thought about it for a moment, not sure about the answer. I’ve been a secret guest of Taemin’s performances for months, but our real acquaintance lasted for a surprisingly short time.

‘Hm…’

‘You don’t even know?’

‘Kibum, please, be gentle to him. He’s…’

‘I know,’ he cut off and I blinked a few times.

‘You know?’

‘Of course, I’m not so dumb to overlook something like that.’ He looked at me suspiciously, as my ears started to burn when I recalled how long did it take me to realize, not to mention the fact that Taemin himself had to inform me. _‘_ _I CAN’T, BECAUSE I DON’T SEE ANYTHING, MINHO, WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!’_ rang in my head again and I lowered my head, embarrassed.

‘Whatever.’ Kibum decided to leave it alone. ‘You won’t ask me what I’m doing here, will you? I came from afar and you didn’t even make a cup of tea for me! Shame on you,’ he said with a fake anger. I sighed and moved to the kitchen.

~*~

‘Why are you so awkward?’ Kibum asked, after another five minutes of silence. The three of us were sitting at the table in the living room, drinking tea. Taemin made a slight, nervous movement, being even more quiet than usually. I glanced at him apologetically, even though I knew he cannot notice it. Key raised his eyebrows at my behavior. ‘Do I disturb the two of you? Maybe I should leave?’ His voice was full of malicious tones.

‘Kibum, please,’ I warned him, trying to come up with a topic that would please him. ‘Tell us, how is your life in England? We’re extremely curious.’ My trick worked, making Kibum’s eyes shine a little brighter as he generously ignored the sarcastic tone of my words.

‘You would not believe how amazing clothes there are!’ he said enthusiastically. ‘And not only for humans. Have you seen those pretty little outfits that I’d bought for my puppies?’ He glanced around the room. ‘But where are they?’ he muttered. My eyes widened a bit.

‘Don’t say that you brought them with you!’ I said with disbelief, receiving a sharp gaze as a reply.

‘I would never leave my children alone with strange people,’ he snapped back, walking out of the room. ‘Comme Des, Garçons, where are you hiding, my darlings?’ I heard his disgustingly sweet voice, as he was searching for his dogs around my apartment. I slowly breathed out, a helpless sigh.

‘Did he really bring his dogs?’ From England?’ asked Taemin, his voice a bit trembling.

‘Yeah, I’m not even surprised, to be honest,’ I said reluctantly, now looking at my neighbor more carefully. He seemed worried.

‘Uhm… you know… I…’ he tried to explain something, but as soon as he heard the tapping of dog claws, he became silent. He breathed in, loudly, and grasped my sleeve, white as a sheet.

‘There are my kids, they were playing in the kitchen,’ jabbered Key, carrying a black poodle in his hands. The dog was dressed in a ridiculous winter coat. The second puppy, the bronze one, rushed through the floor and quickly approached Taemin. My neighbor stiffened, his grasp became even tighter and I could almost feel his nails scratching my skin.

‘Taemin? Are you okay?’ I asked, concerned about his unusual behavior. The boy only gulped loudly, leaving my question without the answer.

‘So…’ spoke Key, as he put Garçons on the floor and gazed at Taemin. ‘…you’re afraid of dogs, aren’t you?’

‘I am not afraid.’ Taemin’s voice was alarmingly high-pitched. With half-sympathetic, half-amused expression, I was observing his attempt to save his pride. The grasp on my arm lightened a bit, a few moments later completely disappearing, as Taemin put his hands on his knees, trying hard to look relaxed.

‘Taemin, if you want…’

‘I am _fine_ ,’ he said  hostilely, cutting my suggestion off. I sighed heavily and started to pet Comme Des right behind his ear. The dog happily waggled his tail. The second puppy might have become envious of his friend because he suddenly jumped out of nowhere and rushed in Taemin’s direction, a few seconds later gracefully clambering on his knees.

‘AAAAAAAAH! Take this monster away from me! Minho, save me!’ my neighbor shouted helplessly. I realized that the fear I heard in his voice was by far the strongest emotion that Taemin showed to me. Additionally, the fact that he asked me, personally, to help him, caused a weird sensation in my stomach. The dog approached the boy’s face with his tongue stuck out. My neighbor squealed quietly and snuggled into my arm. I would never expect the cold, brittle and always collected Taemin to act like this. And maybe that’s why I stiffened, feeling his trembling hands wrapping around my arm, knowing that the ice prince chose me to be his hideout.

‘Minho, you talk nonsense…’ spoke the voice in my head and I had to agree.

‘Garçons, what are you doing? Leave the kid alone!’ shouted Kibum, taking rebellious puppy on his hands and locking his dogs up in another room.

The awkward silence rang in my hears, as my neighbor was clearly hesitant if he should believe that he’s already safe, or not.

At the same time, I was busy with having a little battle of glares with Kibum. My friend was shamelessly making fun of me, as he kept on sending unreadable signs into my direction. I wasn’t quite sure what did he mean, but it was certainly nothing good, so I decided to kill him with my eyes before he’ll say something stupid again. Eventually he sighed, annoyed with my lack of understanding and, with malicious smile plastered to his face, he raised his hands and drew a huge heart in the air. I glanced at him, now sure that he’d lost his mind, as he sent me a flying kiss.

‘Are they gone?’ I heard a voice right below my chin.

‘Yeah, you’re safe now,’ I claimed with a calming tone of voice. I wanted to pat him on the back, but the boy pushed my hand away. His cheeks were a bit red, but his cold mask of indifference was back on its place.

‘You’re not afraid of dogs, huh?’ mumbled Key, his eyes still full of amusement.

‘Everyone has their weak spot,’ Taemin said calmly, aware of the fact that he can’t hide his secret anymore.

‘You’re right. Ones are afraid of dogs, the others are scared of ghosts…’ Key nodded.

‘I’m not scared of ghosts.’ My neighbor’s voice was cold as ice. The sadistic part of myself came to voice in my head, because I suddenly missed this trembling boy snuggling into my arm.

‘That’s fortunate…’ I said and Kibum raised his eyebrow, seeing a sneaky sparkle in my eyes.

‘What are you up to…?’ he asked, warning ringing in his voice.

Not answering, I stood up and rushed to the hall. I opened a cabined and started digging inside of it. Finally, I found a torch. I came back to the living room, turning the light off. I was aware of the fact that Taemin is unable to see my visual effects, but since the idea showed up in my mind, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and scare both of my guests.

‘Have you really lost your mind?’ I was getting used to the way Kibum insulted me hundred times a day.

‘Come on, it will be fun, ‘ I said lightly.

‘What is going on?’ spoke Taemin, disorientated with our exchange of words. I giggled in reply, feeling like a kid in a grade school and probably that’s how I looked with a torch located under my chin and directed into my face.

‘One dark and stormy night…’

~*~

‘Key, how long do you plan to sit there?’ I asked, hitting the door once again.

‘Until morning!’ I heard in reply.

‘But it’s _my_ bedroom!’ I shouted and leaned on the wall, tired.

‘It’s a penalty for your behavior.’

‘Because of few innocent child stories about ghosts you’re ejecting me out of my own room?’ I asked with disbelief, trying to make my friend realize that he exaggerates. But it was Kibum. Why did I even think he would listen to me?

‘Innocent? Have you seen the reaction of this poor kid?’ This time Kibum was almost angry. I recalled the picture of Taemin, who kept on sitting deadly quiet and calm for the whole evening. Maybe he was a bit more pale than usual, but that’s all. I didn’t notice any other signs of fear.

‘He actually looked much less scared than you…’

‘What are you suggesting?!’

‘…so the fact that you locked yourself inside of my room to have the lights turned on for the whole night is _not_ because you’re scared…?’ My comment made Kibum silent for a moment. I smiled with satisfaction. Because of our long-term separation I almost forgot how fun it was to tease Kibum.

‘Nonsense. Let’s end up this lovely conversation. I have to go to sleep, if I don’t want to wake up as a panda,’ said my friend. ‘And for your information, Taemin was horrified. Didn’t you see his shaking hands when he was leaving? Well, I guess you prefer to look in other directions…’

‘What?!’

‘Never mind…’ Key was amused once again. ‘Anyway, my congratulations. You’ve manager to scare him and that’s what you wanted, right? But I guess the final effect is not quite satisfying…’

I pushed myself off the wall and headed to the living room. I had enough of this conversation. Somehow Kibum was able to figure out my intensions even better than me myself. Annoying.

I laid on my window ledge, the same one that I used each time I was listening to Taemin’s music. I looked at the dark window, but the outside world was blurred because of the rain falling from the sky.

‘Taemin will be disappointed that autumn came back, instead of winter…’ came to my mind, as I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep. The place was uncomfortable, my long legs not fitting in the provisional bed. Unstoppable, intrusive tapping of raindrops was making the situation even harder to stand. I was lying, curled up, trying not to think about anything special. It was nice as long as I actually managed to keep my brain empty. But time passed and my tired mind stopped listening to my commands. That’s how I got lost in dangerous memories of the passing day. I couldn’t understand why my subconscious kept on coming back to the same topics so stubbornly. I fixed my position, trying to throw those problematic thoughts out of my head.

Suddenly, outstandingly loud in the silent of the night, my phone vibrated.

I glanced at it, totally surprised. The blinking of the screen was explicitly confirming the fact that someone was trying to contact me.

‘Who can it be so late?’ I mumbled, nearly letting the device fall on the floor, when I saw the name written on the screen. I quickly pressed the green button.  A deadly hush fell and I wasn’t sure if I should say something or wait.

‘Hyung…’ I finally heard a quiet voice in the speaker. My heart danced weirdly inside of my chest in reaction to this word, that my younger friend never used before with reference to me.

‘Taemin? Did something happen?’ Slight sign of panic could be heard in my voice. I had all rights to be worried, receiving an unexpected phone call from my disabled friend who would never voluntarily ask me for help. I heard a quiet sigh. ‘Taemin?!’ I asked so loudly, that I could hear a sleepy grumbling of Kibum from the other side of the wall.

‘Nothing happened…’ said the voice in the speaker.

‘Are you sure?’ I wasn’t quite believing him. ‘So why are you calling me in the middle of the night?’

‘I’m just bored,’ he claimed emphatically.

‘Bored?! Taemin, it’s 1 AM!’ I shouted, after a few seconds realizing that I can’t be too loud if I don’t want to wake Kibum up and give him another chance for weird allusions.

‘The fact that you picked up so quickly evidence that you didn’t sleep, neither…’

‘That’s because it’s raining cats and dogs and I…’

‘Bleh…’

‘What?’

‘Cats. They’re better than dogs, but I don’t like them, neither,’ he explained, trying to sound indifferent. I suddenly felt guilty.

‘I’m sorry for exposing you to the meeting with Comme Des and Garçons. If I knew…’

‘Never mind,’ he cut off. ‘It’s not the first time I had to deal with it…’ His voice was full of reluctance, but when I stayed silent, he continued. ‘After I decided to move out, my mother insisted on buying me a guide dog…’

‘Move out?’ I raised my voice unintentionally again. ‘Aren’t you living with your mother?’

‘Why are you so surprised? I told you how it is. I wouldn’t stand living with her in one house.’

‘So… you’re living alone?' My question was weird and incongruous even in my own ears. Even so, I was too shocked to reconsider my words before saying them out loud.

‘Am I not allowed to?’ he snapped back, bitterly. ‘I’m living with a caregiver but do you think that if I can’t see anything I wouldn’t fend for myself?’

Even though I didn’t say anything wrong, my neighbor was defending himself as if he knew what was on my mind. And he was right. I couldn’t even imagine this vulnerable and fragile boy sitting alone in an empty apartment, not having anyone to talk to. Suddenly I realized that maybe that’s the actual reason why he called me. I leaned on my arm and glanced at his window. I saw nothing but a black whole of darkness. Oh, right, he doesn’t need a light…

‘Don’t tell me that you’re gaping at my window,’ the voice in the speaker cut my thoughts off, making me loudly breathe in. It was hard to say if this boy has a power of reading minds or I’ve been just too predictable lately.

‘Do you want me to come?’ I asked, not reconsidering such ambiguous proposition made in a middle of a night.

‘You perverted freak…’ insulted me Taemin. ‘What for?’

‘You need a companion, don’t you?’

‘I didn’t say anything like that…’

‘If you didn’t need someone to talk to, you wouldn’t call me…’

‘Don’t imagine things. Jonghyun hyung is abroad and I don’t want to disturb him. It’s your fault that I can’t sleep, so you deserve it.’ Taemin was annoyed again.

‘My? Are you really scared of ghost stories?’ I asked, recalling Kibum’s words. The speaker fell silent. ‘…really? You said you’re not afraid!’

‘Shut up,’ snarled Taemin, way too obviously showing that he was scared. ‘My caregiver is already sleeping. I didn’t want to wake him up so late,’ he said, changing the topic.

‘You didn’t want to wake him up, so you called me instead?’ I was trying to be irritated, but ended up somehow happy, because I really didn’t mind this little lovely night talk.

‘Exactly. If you think that your only obligation is to lead me through school corridors, you’re wrong.’

‘My obligations?' I asked in disbelief. ‘As who?’ This question made Taemin silent for a longer time, as he clearly had no idea how to answer.

‘I can’t call you a caregiver nor servant, because I don’t pay you…’ he said slowly, thoughtfully. ‘So… the care that you’re giving to me… it might be some kind of masochism?’ It would probably sound like a joke, but Taemin’s voice was deadly serious.

‘You think I’m a masochist because I care for you? I summed up, shocked with his way of thinking.

‘I guess so… Can’t imagine another solution…’

‘And you never even considered a possibility that I might be your friend?’ I felt a slight irritation with his attitude.

A long moment of silence came as a reply. Raindrops were still furiously hitting the windowsill, as I was sitting with a phone in my hand, wondering if Taemin didn’t put his device off. Eventually, I heard a sigh full of tiredness.

‘For me it’s just another name for masochism. But please yourself, let it be. You can call it friendship,’ he said indifferently, his words painting a stupidly bright smile on my face. My heart suddenly felt incredibly light. ‘By the way, why you didn’t tell me that you live in the opposite tenement house?’ he asked all of sudden.

I gulped loudly. Why I didn’t tell him? Maybe because I’ve been shamelessly gaping through his windows for months? I rubbed my face with my hand, trying to fight off the sudden urge to tell him the truth.

‘Just… without a reason.’ I hesitated. ‘I just didn’t consider it important,’ I stammered.

‘Oh… you’re right,’ he said shortly, maybe a bit disappointed. ‘…Minho?’

‘Yes?’

‘Sing for me,’ he demanded, a slight sign of shyness covering his voice. I raised my eyebrows, once again surprised with my neighbor’s words.

‘Sing? Are you kidding me?’ I asked in disbelief.

‘Why are you so shocked with everything I say?’ I blinked a few times, realizing that his words are true. ‘Jonghyun hyung often sings for me when I can’t sleep. And since he’s gone I have to make use of what I have…’

‘Taemin, I can’t sing,’ I said sincerely. The boy was silent for a few moments, clearly not satisfied with my answer. I unintentionally cleared my throat and straight away scolded myself for even considering fulfilling this ridiculous wish.

‘Forget it. You’re voice in combination with this disgusting cold would bring me only nightmares,’ he said sharply. ‘I’ll just listen to hyung’s songs. I’m hanging up…’

‘Taemin?’

‘What again?’

‘Goodnight.’

A silence that fell after this short word was lasting for so long that I glanced at the screen. I wouldn’t be surprised if Taemin just put his phone off.

‘Goodnight, Minho,’ I finally heard. Two short and somehow shy words were followed by the sound of hanging up.


	6. Chapter 6

‘Do we really have to do this?’ I asked with resignation. Luckily, I’ve already managed to recover from my recent cold, because Taemin clearly decided to give me another chance for runny nose.

‘We’ve decided on winter as the keynote of our project,’ he snapped back, deeply breathing the cold air in. Temperature was low again, making me feel as hopeless, as Taemin happy. The earth became covered with a whiteness of snow once again. ‘But if we want it to work out, we both have to feel the same atmosphere, so that each one of us will be able to express it in his own way. Me – with the help of violin, you – with your paintbrush.’

‘ _We’ve_ decided?! You mean _you’ve_ decided!’ I withstood, not able to recall anyone asking my opinion.

‘Exactly,’ Taemin agreed, nodding his head with satisfaction.

‘But it’s our project, not your project!’ I was annoyed with this injustice.

‘Ugh, okay, have it your way!’ he exclaimed. ‘Our repertoire may be different each time, depending on the mood of the artist.’

‘And that means you?’

Taemin decided not to answer this question, probably considering the topic as finished. I sighed, backing down.

‘Imbibe this atmosphere or you’ll regret not listening to me later, when you’ll be standing in front of your easel helplessly, bringing shame not only on yourself, but also on me.’

‘But why winter?’ I whined, deluding myself that I’ll manage to change his mind.

‘I’ve already told you that I like this season,’ he answered, suddenly deep in thoughts.

I watched him attentively. I had to admit, with my objective eye, that he looked extremely pretty today. His dark silhouette stood out in the omnipresent whiteness of snow. Long eyelashes shadowed his rosy from the frost cheeks. I observed a lonely snowflake that fell somewhere from trees above us and landed on Taemin’s head. I felt urge to dust it off, but it faded in his hair. Another snowflake landed softly on the boy’s cheek, right away melting and changing into a drop of water. I automatically raised my hand to brush off this fake tear.

‘I don’t understand how you can call winter colorless,’ spoke Taemin, waking me up from this weird trans that happened to me. I backed off my raised hand. ‘Hyung told me that winter means a lot of red and green. Not to even mention the colors of a warm fireplace and steaming mug of tea… How can you call all those things colorless?’

His words were undoubtedly fascinating, but for some reasons I was completely unable to concentrate, too busy with watching single strands of his hair, softly drifted by the wind.

‘Taemin…?

‘Hm?’

‘Can I draw you?’ I asked, before I managed to reconsider my words, obviously too enchanted with his looks. The boy frowned.

‘You haven’t been even listening to me, have you?’ He was irritated.

‘Can I?’ I didn’t give up.

‘What’s wrong with you today, you idiot?’ he talked back, aggressively.

‘Not only today. Generally,’ I rectified and he raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ve already told you that you’re extremely pre…’

‘Don’t finish this ridiculous sentence!’ he cut in.

‘Wait, you don’t understand…’

‘You’re a crazy pervert. What else should be understood?’

‘Taemin, I’m an artist,’ I exclaimed, shutting him up for a moment. ‘And as an artist I’m searching for a beauty in the world that surrounds me. Wherefore, there is nothing weird in me trying to immortalize this beauty since I already found it, right?’ I was surprised with such ambitious argument showing up in my head. Improvisation became my life saver. For a brief moment Taemin looked as if he didn’t know what to say, which was rather rare in his case. Eventually he straightened his back, proudly.

‘I don’t think I’m willing to give you my permission,’ he said with brittle tone of voice.

‘But why?’ I begged.

‘Even if you draw me, I won’t be able to check your _artwork_ …’ His last word sounded a bit sarcastic and I felt hurt. ‘Maybe you’ll mar me, not giving me a chance to stop you.’

‘You don’t trust me, do you?’ I asked a bit angry.

‘You’re right,’ said Taemin laconically. ‘Trusting someone means pure foolishness.’

‘You don’t trust Jonghyun neither?’ I asked, surprising my own self. I wasn’t even aware of my curiosity.

‘Are you jealous?’ Taemin’s voice was painted with maliciousness making me feel awkward with his question. ‘You’d better do something useful rather than fool around!’

I glanced at him critically, having a hard time with understanding how can he be so rigid and harsh all the time. A sneaky idea came to my mind.

‘Come on, I can’t believe we came here only to stare at the snow!’ I shouted out unexpectedly, grasping his hand and pulling him with me, straight into a nearest snow drift.

‘What are you doing, madman?!’ he squealed, clearly not expecting me to behave in such an irrational way.

‘I want you to have some fun,’ I replied, giggling.

I threw myself on the ground, pulling Taemin with me, but not forgetting to care for his safety. The boy, panicked, grabbed my jacket and fell straight on me. We both lied like this for a moment, breathing loudly. The beating of my heart was worryingly fast and I guessed that Taemin had a similar problem. Feeling this boy, lying on my body, made me have crazy ideas, suddenly showing up in my mind. My hands wanted to lock him in my embrace, my eyes wanted to look at his, still snuggled into my chest, face. Those weird reactions were most probably a part of my overprotective nature. I just wanted to ensure myself that my thoughtless behavior didn’t hurt my friend. Especially because he was still silent, even though we fell some time ago. I glanced at him, alarmed.

‘Taemin, are you oka…’

‘TAKE THAT, YOU PERVERT!’ he shouted unexpectedly and after a second I felt a huge snowball on my face. As for a blind boy, Taemin’s accuracy was quite surprising. ‘It was you who started this madness, so here is your lesson,’ he exclaimed, proud of himself. I was so shocked with his sudden attack that I didn’t even know how to react. I guess my muteness was alarming to Taemin, because he grasped my jacket and moved his body a bit higher on mine. ‘Minho?’ I heard a quiet voice right next to my ear.

I was watching the face of the boy lying on me. His expression was inscrutable when his hand travelled through my body, searching for my face. He started to brush the melting snow off, awkwardly. The hot touch of his fingers was somehow electrifying. Probably because of the difference of temperatures… However, I was so surprised with his care, that I was afraid to make a slightest movement, not to ruin this unusual moment. But it didn’t stop my body from doing weird things. I placed my hand on Taemin’s cold one, pressing it against my wet cheek. The boy blushed at this awkward gesture that even I did not understand. He frowned his eyebrows and opened his mouth, as if he was about to nag me, but I didn’t give him a chance to do so. I grasped his wrists and switched our positions. Now Taemin was the one lying on the snow.

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING? IT’S A RAPE, SOMEONE HELP ME!’ my friend shouted, forcing me to let go of his wrists.

‘Rape? I just wanted you to do a snow angel…’ I said, pouty, making Taemin feel ashamed. However, after a few seconds of awkward silence his face formed in a dogged expression.

‘Snow angel? Here you are! Happy now?!’ he exclaimed, moving his arms and legs up and down, looking as if he was just an elementary school student. I giggled, actually really satisfied with the outcome of my attempts. Not only wasn’t he mad at me, but also joined in my playing in the snow. I felt proud of myself.

‘Very happy. You’re a cute angel,’ I replied, helping him to stand up. Taemin snorted with annoyance, but abstained from commenting my compliment.

‘You’d better never do something like this in the future or you’ll lose your job as my private masochist,’ he said, making me burst out into laughter at his ridiculous and yet somehow serious statement.

I needed a few moments to notice that Taemin is shaking in his expensive, but certainly not good for playing in snow coat. Not having a better idea, I embraced him, trying to share my warmth.

‘You’re turning into a little, shaking icicle,’ I mumbled, feeling guilty.

‘Enough of those endearments, pervert,’ I heard a muffled voice and Taemin stepped back. I laughed under my breath and grabbed his hand, leading us back home.

~*~

‘Oh, you’re here, my lovely turtledoves?’ said Key, as soon as me and Taemin entered the living room. He was sitting on the sofa with crossed legs and some kind of fashion magazine in his hands.

‘Turtledoves?! What are you suggesting?’ I was totally fed up with his weird alusions. Taemin lowered his head, touching the wall with his fingers, travelled through the room to place himself on a chair. I was quite surprised with his silence, because usually he was as annoyed as I was, whenever Kibum teased us. I concluded that this time he was probably too tired or just offended with the fact that I leaded him to my house, instead of his.

‘To what do I owe the honor of your visit?’ Key asked, as if it was his flat, not mine.

‘Ask him…’ growled Taemin, indeed offended.

‘I invited Taemin for a cup of tea, because he was freezing…’ I answered, earning a suspicious look from Key.

‘He’s soaking wet, what have you done to him?! Threw him into a snow drift?’ he asked with disbelief, but seeing our expressions he rolled his eyes. He put his magazine away and grabbed Taemin’s hand, pulling him into my hijacked bedroom’s direction. ‘Come, darling, we have to do something about this…’ he jabbered. He managed to show me his tongue before they both disappeared behind a door frame.

I sat on the sofa, sighing loudly. I preferred not to even imagine what these two were talking about behind my back. I reached for Kibum’s magazine, but immediately frowned, seeing first few pages. Women on photos looked weird and unnatural in hard make up and outstanding clothes. I threw the magazine back on its place. Natural and simple style, that’s what I appreciate.

‘Minho, shag your ass and make the tea,’ I heard a sharp tone of Key’s voice. He entered the room, pulling Taemin behind him. But my neighbor looked completely different than ten minutes ago. I experienced a slight mental freeze at the view. A skimpy tank top exposed the white skin of arms and collar bones. I blinked a few times. It was Taemin. The same Taemin I’ve always seen in a coat or school uniform. However, watching him in this borrowed from Kibum clothes I felt as if I was watching him naked.

I felt sudden hot, burning my ears at the thought. Natural and simple style, isn’t it what I wanted?

‘What are you thinking about, you pervert?!’ I nagged my own self in my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop looking at the slim neck, now fully exposed, because Taemin’s hair was tied in a little ponytail. I gulped loudly.

‘Ekhem…’ hawked Key forcing my eyes to glance at him. His face was painted with amusement and something that I would call satisfaction. ‘Tea?’ he repeated after a long moment of me giving him a puzzled look.

‘Yes. Right. Okay,’ I stuttered and, fixing my eyes on the floor, rushed to the kitchen.

I leaned on the kitchen table and loudly breathed out. What was that? Why my body reacted in such irrational way? A long time ago I came to conclusion that Taemin is somehow fascinating to the artistic part of my personality, thanks to his extraordinary looks. But a painter shouldn’t drool over extremely beautiful tree. So why Taemin was able to give me a heart attack with his looks?

‘I’m talking nonsense again…’ I mumbled and turned on the kettle.

Coming back to the living room, I found both of my guests debating on something. I glanced at Key with a question mark on my face.

‘Oh, you’re here, finally. Please, explain to this boy that he _has_ to go shopping with me,’ he said firmly.

‘He’s making a mountain out of a molehill…’ growled Taemin, arms crossed on his chest. I watched both of them, not understanding a thing.

‘I thought you prefer to go shopping alone, Kibum. No one would disturb you and you could spend in a shopping mall the whole day…’ I said and he rolled his eyes.

‘It’s not about clothes for me. It’s about clothes for _him_!’ he exclaimed, as if it was something obvious.

‘For him?’ I asked, a bit lost. ‘I thought you have everything you need…’ I awkwardly turned to Taemin.

‘Because I do,’ he mumbled. Key snorted at his laconic statement.

‘Okay, I see. Your performance is just around the corner, but it seems I’m the only person who actually care about it!’ He was annoyed.

‘Performance? And how your shopping is conected with our project?’ I was so puzzled.

‘Have a mercy on me, Minho. You should use your brain sometimes, you know? Look at yourself and tell me what you’re seeing,’ he commanded, rubbing his temple. I glanced at him suspiciously, not finding anything wrong in my faded jeans and comfortable jumper. ‘Now tell me: would you show in such clothes on a stage?’ continued Kibum, finally making me understand.

‘So all of this mess is about my clothes?’ I asked in disbelief

‘You didn’t answer my question!’ said Key. ‘Ah, whatever. We all know the answer. That’s why I plan to take care of your image or you’ll turn into a laughing stock.’

‘You’re plan is genius,’ spoke Taemin, unexpectedly. ‘Speaking of his clothes, I agree with you, hyung,’ he turned to Kibum and I raised my eyebrows. He never called me _hyung_ , even though we knew each other much longer than him and Kim. Well, almost never. I still remembered the night talk and his quiet voice in the speaker. Time passed, but Taemin didn’t mention this incident even once, which wasn’t surprising. It was probably colliding with his pride. ‘But why should I take part in this? I’ve got a lot of elegant clothes!’ he stated, trying hard to convince Kibum.

‘Taeminnie, darling, it’s not so easy. You have to match each other if you are to become unity of artists,’ Kibum explained patiently.

‘But…’

‘Enough,’ cut off Kibum and Taemin sighed dissatisfied. ‘Minho agrees, right?’ he turned to me, but it sounded like a rhetoric question, rather than the real one. I opened my mouth to say something, but no one listened to me anymore. Kibum clapped his hands, enthusiastically. ‘Okay, we’ve got a deal. Tomorrow we go shopping,’ he said with a huge smile on his face and a devilish sparkle in his eye.

~*~

‘OH MY GOSH, WHAT A CUTE HAT!’ shouted Key, so loudly, that half of the people in the shop looked into our direction. But he didn’t really care, too absorbed with drooling over a huge, fluffy hat with a pair of foxy ears on the top. ‘It’s gorgeous,’ he said, sighing.

‘Buy it then,’ I suggested, leaning on the wall and wondering what the hell am I doing here. However, the person who felt even more uncomfortable than me, was Taemin. He sat on a sofa, near the shelf of shoes, and probably decided to stay there until Kibum lets him go home.

‘Have you lost your mind?’ My friend snorted with contempt. ‘Hats like this are not for me. But imagine how cute Taemin would look in one of them!’ he squealed overexcited and rushed into the bored boy’s direction. ‘Taemin, I found something perfect for you,’ he said, quickly putting the hat on his head. I have to admit he looked ridiculously cute, especially with this pouty expression.

‘I’m not your doll, hyung…’ growled Taemin coldly. ‘Hats are not what we came here for…’

‘Okay, okay… there is no fun with the two of you,’ said Kibum accusingly, as he put the hat back on its place, disappointed. ‘Give me a moment, I’ll find something for you.’

He started to walk around shelves as if he knew each corner of the shop (he probably did) and mumble something to himself. I was extremely bored, watching him showing up and disappearing, each time carrying a bigger pile of clothes. Eventually he approached us, clearly proud of himself.

‘I’ve found so many treasures! All you have to know is how to search,’ he jabbered with enthusiasm. I pushed myself off the wall, heading to changing rooms, but Kibum stopped me. ‘All of this is for Taemin, my dear. You will be next,’ he said and I glanced at the pile of clothes once again in disbelief.

‘All?’ I asked to ensure myself. Kibum rolled his eyes.

‘Come, darling, I’ll help you.’ He grabbed Taemin’s hand and pulled him into a changing room.

I leaned my head on the wall. Why did I agree to Kibum’s crazy idea? Thanks to my friend I idly stuck in a shop instead of, maybe, working on our project. We’ve already managed to create the general idea, but our plan demanded a lot of corrections and adjustments. And even though I was literally forced into this work, the time spent with Taemin changed my attitude. Now I felt committed to the whole unity of artist thing and I wanted to success. That’s why I’d rather be at home, painting winter. I didn’t want to disappoint Taemin, so I decided to try looking at his favorite season in a different way so that I would be able to fully express its colors. However, no matter how much I tried, I was seeing only whiteness of snow and dark silhouettes of naked trees. Not much of the colors that Taemin told me about…

‘Here,’ I heard a voice, cutting of my thoughts. Someone threw another pile of clothes into my arms. ‘Give it to Taemin. I have to go look for something more. I’ll be back in a moment to help you,’ said Key, disappearing quicker than I could react. I glanced at colorful fabrics in my arms helplessly and sighed loudly. I decided on being amenable this time, just to finish quicker and go home. I headed to the changing rooms, not sure in which one of them Taemin was. I knocked a few times, but rooms were empty.

Impatient, I hit another door with my fist. Silece. I pushed the door… and froze. I felt as if I was experiencing the same thing as the day before, but ten times stronger now. Taemin stood in the middle of the room, with his back to me. Maybe it wouldn’t be so shocking if not for the fact that he was actually half-naked. He probably got rid of one of clothes that Kibum gave to him and was waiting for help with putting on the next one.

‘Hyung, don’t tell me that you’ve got more of it with you…’ I heard his voice, full of resignation. I panicked, realizing he’s speaking to Key. I looked around, searching for help, not sure if I should stay or run away.

‘Minho, what the hell are you doing?’ I asked my own self in my mind. ‘It’s your friend and you can’t even help him dress up? Key doesn’t have any problem with it. What’s wrong with you?’ The series of rational questions appeared in my head, but as soon as Taemin made an impatient movement, all of my thoughts just disappeared. I was glancing at the line of his shoulder blades with opened mouth.

‘Hyung?’ A sign of hesitation rang in Taemin’s voice. I cleared my throat.

‘Taemin, it’s me,’ I finally spoke, my voice slightly trembling. The boy stiffened. He suddenly seemed to be as nervous as I was. When he thought Key was the one who came to the changing room, he acted less nervously than now, as he knew it was me. I thought that he’s so uptight to everyone, but now I had an evidence that I was the exception.

 ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked with a brittle tone.

‘Key ordered me to deliver you more clothes, in case you were bored,’ I answered, putting fabrics on a chair. Taemin shivered and started to look for something to wear with his hands. ‘Taemin?’

‘What?’ he’s voice was nervous, almost aggressive.

‘Can I help you?’ I asked softly and, not waiting for an answer, I took a simple white shirt out of the pile of clothes. Taemin was silent when I approached him and gently put the fabric on his naked arms. He shivered when I accidentally touched his skin with my fingertips. Even though he was facing the mirror, I couldn’t see his expression, because he lowered his head. I moved myself in front of him in order to button his shirt, but he sharply rejected my hands.

‘I’ll do it on my own,’ he said, voice cold as stone. My heartbeat revved up when I noticed rosy blush on Taemin’s cheeks.

‘Taemin, I…’ I started, but at the very moment Key appeared in the room. He glanced at us closely, his eyes sparkling suspiciously. Whatever came to his mind, he decided to keep it to himself.

‘Look what I’ve bought!’ he shouted enthusiastically and only then I noticed the huge, fluffy, foxy hat on his head, the same one he abandoned an hour ago. ‘I decided it’s just too pretty to ignore it.’

I sighed loudly, once again wondering what the hell am I doing here.


	7. Chapter 7

I raised my eyebrows, surprised. I’ve already listened to many of pieces played by Taemin. Each one of them was different, some made me smile, others brought me down. However, what he was doing right now appeared to be diametrically dissimilar to any of his previous performances. Could it be called a performance even…

The boy moved his bow against strings, creating a clear, deep tone. The sound lasted for a few seconds, followed by a sudden pause. I watched the neighborhood boy as he frowned his eyebrows, mumbling something under his breath. After a brief moment he started his playing once again, this time allowing the sound to last a bit longer and fluently change into another, a bit higher. Unusual concentration was painted all over his face as he was cautiously choosing elements of the melody one by one.

Because that’s what Taemin was doing. Composing.

He surprised me once again. Never before had he mentioned his own creations. He knew and appreciated classics, which he could play with a great passion and an equal precision, even though all of them sounded so similar in my ears. But this time something totally different was happening right before my eyes. Taemin was so into his own music that I wished him best in the creation process. Being an artist, I knew very well how much satisfaction could your art give you, born from hours of working hard on developing your talent. Taemin undoubtedly had a gift, not to mention his solid background forced by his mother. These factors mixed together placed him much higher than ordinary musicians at such a young age.

Taemin commanded his violin to sing another warm tone, but did not let the sound ring with its full beauty. He suddenly stopped playing and moved the instrument away, as if he was angry. There was dissatisfaction hidden in the grimace of his lips, signalizing that he’s not proud of his own work. After a moment his angriness melted, quickly making place for a sad helplessness, that instantly made me want to hug him. I couldn’t understand what pushed him to composing. Maybe I wouldn’t even search for some serious reasons if not for the fact that he was clearly devastated with his failure. For a moment I even thought that maybe his mother ordered him to create his own music, but I quickly rejected the idea. He put too much heart into the piece. It could not be an outcome of constraint.

For a few minutes Taemin kept on sitting on a chair without a single movement, making me worried more and more with every passing moment. Finally, he quickly stood up and with stubborn face continued his work.

We knew each other for a few months, and I was still catching myself surprised with his changing moods, his balancing humors. In one sentence or gesture he could hide two totally different emotions, such as angriness and empathy. That’s why I actually didn’t know what was his attitude towards me. Usually he was cold and harsh, insulting me as often as he could. But then there were those little precious moments, especially in last few weeks, when he showed vulnerability and this weird, adorkable tenderness. I was somehow satisfied with these slight changes in his attitude. Many days before, listening to his painful music, I made a decision. I wanted to break this wall that he built around him. To become his friend. And I succeeded, Taemin admitted it himself (even if he was a bit forced to name it). Our relation wasn’t as perfect as I wished it was, but thanks to my trying, the boy finally started to open up rather than live closed in his little world.

This time Taemin played quite a long part of the melody, warm and soothing. I had to admit that it sounded very beautiful. I was curious if I’ll be able to convince him to play the whole piece for me someday. Winter entangled with snowflakes and messed with the violinist’s hair. The boy shivered. I felt an urge to nag him for practicing with an opened window. When days were warm there was no problem, but now, when the winter was back with its freezing presence, Taemin’s behavior became irresponsible. His thin body was so fragile, so easy to catch a cold.

I studied his slim silhouette carefully. And there was this unwanted topic again. This weird part of my brain, that I usually avoided to explore. I often analyzed Taemin’s attitude towards me, but when it comes to my own complicated feelings, I preferred to ignore their existence. Each attempt of understanding my weakness for this boy ended up with weird and alarming conclusions that I wasn’t ready for. I liked Taemin from the very beginning, there was no doubt about it. Even when he was harsh and unfriendly, I couldn’t help myself but care about this mysterious boy more and more with every passing day. But, in time, even though theoretically nothing changed, in fact something was different. The distance shortened. ‘Good. That’s what you wanted,’ I told myself. Indeed, I was happy with the way things changed. But it did not neutralize the faster beating of my heart or all these sensations in my stomach, that appeared each time I secretly watched my friend. I explained it to myself as a fascination caused by his extraordinary beauty. Such argument worked well. For some time. However, days passed and my weakness didn’t soften at all. Each meeting was only making things worse. Even now, observing him from the distance, my eyes kept on travelling through the beauty of the details, such as the delicate line of the lips or perfectly shaped curve of brows. In moments like this I always repeated my ambitious justification of my attitude in my mind. But each time my argument looked more absurdly.

Taemin put his violin away, half satisfied, half pouty. His movement woke me up from the trans. I quickly looked away and placed my eyes on the inside of my living room, that was in a total mess. Not like it was usually clean. Usually it was full of my own, private disorder, understandable only for me. That’s why now, when Key decided to clean it up, because ‘ _he won’t live in such a pigsty’_ , I felt lost and out of place.

‘Move your graceful ass and help me,’ I heard a grumpy voice, coming from behind a sofa. My eyes widened, as I noticed Kibum on the floor.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I asked in disbelief, watching my friend as he stood up. There was a pair of latex gloves on his hands.

‘Cleaning up!’ he snorted, offended. I discreetly placed myself with my back to the window, leaning on the sill, trying to act relaxed. In fact I was totally stressed, not sure if Kibum noticed my little peeking, or if he was too absorbed with the sofa. My weird behavior must have been obvious, because my friend frowned.

‘My dear, did you really think I don’t know about this?’ he asked with compassion, glancing tellingly at the window. I gulped loudly, as nervous, as if I did something unacceptable and now my dirty secret was discovered.

‘I’m just… it’s not like…’ I started to messily explain myself, but Kibum approached me and put his finger on my lips.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell him,’ he said, making me feel relief. ‘It will be way funnier when you do it yourself,’ he added, devilish happiness sparkling in his eyes. Oh, right. It was Kim Kibum. What else could I expect?

‘Key, I don’t…’ I tried again, but he raised his hand, making me silent.

‘I know what I need to know and that’s enough. You’d better get down to work. Are you planning to greet your guests in such a mess?’ he asked, spreading his arms and glancing at my living room judgingly. I blinked, confused.

‘Guests?’

‘Please, tell me you’re joking, Minho…’ he mumbled, resigned with my lack of understanding and I couldn’t do anything else than giving him a puzzled look. ‘It’s 2nd day of December today, does it tell you anything?’ He waited, but I didn’t answer. ‘Oh, there is your birthday in a week, you dumbass!’ he burst, hitting my arm. ‘It’s ridiculous that I remember it better than you!’

I breathed out loudly, realizing that he’s actually right. I didn’t expect something like that. I usually spend my birthday just like any other day of a year. Sometimes I go with someone to a cinema or a bar and that’s all. Nothing special.

‘I don’t recall me organizing a party, so you don’t have to do the cleaning, really…’ I said, frowning my eyebrows. My answer met with an irritated grimace painted on Kibum’s face.

‘Oh, no, no, no. You won’t duck out so easily, you antisocial sloth,’ he claimed, shaking his head in disagreement.

‘But who am I supposed to invite in your opinion?’ I asked, trying hard to destroy his ridiculous party idea.

‘Who? Taemin, of course,’ he answered as if it was totally obvious. I raised my eyebrows.

‘Only him? And what, we’ll organize a lovely little party for the three of us?’

‘That’s right.’ Key was way too cheerful, way too sneaky when he glanced at me with a wide smile. ‘A party with a great company,’ he claimed, satisfied. Then he turned around and came back to his cleaning. ‘I’m a great friend, aren’t I?’ I heard him mumbling under his breath.

~*~

‘Hey, frog-eyed! It’s been a long time!’ I heard, only a few seconds before I became locked in a pair of strong arms. I staggered, surprised, and glanced at the short man that stood in front of me. His face was painted with happiness.

‘Enough of this acts of love, you’re blocking the door.’ Taemin’s voice was even more harsh than usually, as he waited impatiently in the threshold of my flat. I quickly helped him to take his coat off and hanged it on a hanger.

‘What is this madmen doing here?’ I asked conspiratorially, behind Jonghyun’s back.

‘Do you think I can’t hear you?’ the uninvited guest spoke. Jonghyun glanced at me and Taemin. ‘I came back tomorrow and heard that Taemin’s dearest friend has a birthday. I decided to join the party!’ he explained enthusiastically. I think I was the only one who noticed Taemin’s face reddening from anger cheeks, when he heard the words _dearest friend._ Jonghyun turned around and peeked to the living room. He whistled quietly.

‘Are you sure the party is here?’ he asked, surprised. ‘A bit lame place, to be honest…’

I rubbed my face with my hand, already tired. I leaned to Taemin.

‘Did you really have to take him with you?’ I whispered, this time more quiet so that Jonghyun could not hear my words. Taemin snorted.

‘Do you really think I could stop him? He’s stubborn,’ he sharply said, but I knew that it was not like he couldn’t stop him. He just obviously didn’t want to. I decided not to comment. It was only then when I noticed a thing that Taemin brought here with him.

‘A violin?’ I asked in disbelief, making him flush. I wasn’t surprised with his reaction. He’s always been very sensitive about his art. I watched him as he clenched his fists and lowered his head. ‘Do you plan on playing something for me?’ I tried, still having a hard time to understand his intensions.

‘You wish,’ he growled laconically, but his voice was full of nervousness. Oh, right. Embarrassed Taemin equals aggressive Taemin. He dropped his violin case on the floor and walked through the hall. I rushed to help him in getting to the living room, but he didn’t need my guidance anymore. In past few weeks he became a regular guest in my flat and he managed to learn how to move around it. He knew exactly where to turn to get to particular rooms.

‘So, how are you doing?’ asked Jonghyun, as soon as me and Taemin entered the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, stealing salty sticks from the table. ‘I heard you’re working on a performance?’ he added with raised eyebrows. Taemin ignored him and headed to his favorite armchair. Judging by his expression, he was totally not in a mood for conversations today. I sighed loudly, bitterly recalling my thoughts from a week ago on how close to each other we are. Being a friend of Taemin was certainly not easy.

‘And who is it?’ I heard a surprised voice from behind my back. Kibum entered the room, carrying a serving plate full of salad with him. I was really curious who was supposed to eat all of this, but decided not to tell it out loud.

‘I may ask you the same thing,’ Jonghyun snapped back, just as surprised as my pink-haired friend.

‘It’s Jonghyun, I told you about him, hyung,’ spoke Taemin. Key’s eyes narrowed, as he studied the uninvited guest cautiously. Eventually, he smiled friendly.

‘You can call me Key. I’m Minho’s friend,’ he introduced himself. ‘So you’re the one that we owe this lovely acquaintance, right?’ He glanced at me and Taemin with a devilish sparkle in his eye. Jonghyun smiled brightly.

‘I knew I hit the bull’s eye,’ he responded, pointing me with his head. ‘I made a right decision. Are they getting along well?’ The question was directed to Kibum. I felt completely ignored.

‘Very well,’ claimed my friend, strange, sneaky smile plastered on his face. For a brief moment he glanced at Taemin, but quickly looked away.

‘Yah, it’s _my_ birthday! Can you stop acting like I’m not here?’ I burst, realizing that this lame party doesn’t have rights to exist. Jonghyun glanced at me and sent me a big smile. He approached me and entangled my neck with his arm. I couldn’t understand why this man acts as if he knew me for a long time. We met only twice.

‘So, my frog-eyed friend, how old are you now? Don’t think I came without a gift!’ he claimed, taking a little something out of his bag. ‘Happy birthday. I wish you’ll still be taking care of my Minnie!’ He poked my side. I blinked a few times, still having in my ears the strange word that he just used.

‘How did you call him?’ I asked, shocked, moving my eyes from Jonghyun to Taemin and backwards. The blonde male bared his teeth and approached the boy sitting on an armchair.

‘What do you mean how? My sweeeeeet Minnie,’ he said, affectionately, pinching Taemin’s cheeks. My eyes widened at the view. Jonghyun must have lost his mind or be in a suicidal mood. If I did something like that I would probably be hit by something way more dangerous than a snowball. How big was my surprise when Taemin not only didn’t kill Jonghyun, but also grabbed his hands and delicately removed them from his face.

‘Hyung, don’t call me like that…’ he grunted, pouty, causing another attack of affection in the older male. However, this time Jonghyun manage to control himself and only ruffled his long hair, receiving a silent growl of discontent. I felt jealous, seeing this comfortableness in their relation. Comfortableness that was certainly lacking in between me and Taemin.

‘I’ve got something for you, too, _Minnie_ ,’ said Jonghyun sweetly, not paying any attention to Taemin’s request. ‘Gonna give you later.’

‘Ekhm…’ Kibum cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. ‘Speaking of gifts…’ he started, but Jonghyun made a worried expression.

‘Oh no! I don’t have anything for you!’ he ruffled his own hair, nervously. Key glanced at him judgingly, like at a complete idiot, but seeing his expression I could tell he was actually happy to be in the limelight now. ‘I’m sorry. Didn’t know there will be someone else in here…’

‘Guys, St. Nicholas’ Day was three days ago! Today is _my_ day,’ I said impatiently.

‘Okay, calm down, my dear.’ Key approached me with a little bag in his hands. He smiled charmingly and it was an alarm for me. I glanced at the bag warily. ‘Happy birthday, my underdeveloped giant friend,’ he said sweetly. ‘ I wish you a lot of love,’ he added, as I studied him with a hesitant expression. Finally, I checked what was in the bag. Kibum’s gift wasn’t a huge surprise, to be honest. It was an exact thing I could expect from him. ‘It’s made of a very expensive fabric, take care of it.’ There were those malicious sparkles in Key’s eyes, when I stretched out a pair of sexy, leopard-printed boxers in my hands. I frowned with disgust.

‘What an amazing gift!’ spoke Jonghyun. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to me?’ he asked hopingly. Kibum snorted.

‘Are you such an unappeased animal?’ he asked and Jonghyun winked at him, saucily. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, watching this two, as they were exchanging way to intense stares.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t interrupt them?’ I whispered jokingly into Taemin’s ear, but he suddenly stiffened and nodded, then stood up. ‘O…okay… we can really go if you want…’ I mumbled helplessly.

I guided Taemin to the kitchen where he stopped abruptly. I couldn’t understand his strange behavior. He kept on clenching his fist on the edge of his shirt, head lowered. Nervous silence that possessed the kitchen lasted for at least ten minutes. Eventually, I sighed heavily.

‘Taemin…? Uhm… how about slicing the cake?’ I asked, not sure how to act around him.

‘No.’ His voice was tough. It caused even more confusion. I desperately tried to think about anything that I might have done wrong and made him offended, but nothing came to my mind. My thoughts were cut off by Taemin himself. I felt his hand, finding my own. His touch was always causing strange knocking inside of my chest. This time was the same, especially that he took my hand voluntarily. ‘I have to show you something,’ he said quietly. I glanced at him carefully, unable to understand. His expression was inscrutable.

‘Uhm… okay. Show me then.’

‘Not here.’ Annoyance rang in his voice. ‘In private.’ This demand made me even more confused, but I leaded him to my bedroom (temporarily occupied by Kibum), hoping no one would interrupt us there. When we walked through the hall Taemin asked me to hand him his violin case, what make me think that maybe he just wanted to play something for me and was too shy to say it directly. Such explanation made sense, but something was not right. Were it Taemin’s clenched fists or his blushed cheeks, I did not know.

The boy placed himself in the middle of my room. His lips were pursed, forming a straight line. He looked as if he was in two minds, not quite sure if he’s doing the right thing. I sat on my bed without a word, waiting. After another five minutes of silence, I frowned my eyebrows.

‘You want to play something for me?’ I asked, unable to bear the heavy silence.

‘Shut up,’ he grunted, tightening the grasp on his bow. He loudly exhaled.

And then he started to play.

[~♪♪♪~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GxdhBlGajA)

His slender fingers released high tones, painting the air with a crystalline melody. Taemin had his eyes closed and seemed to belong to another world, a different reality, where sound replaced image. The musician moved slightly to the rhythm of his violin’s voice. They were an unity, knowing and understanding each other so well, better than anyone else. At the beginning notes were high, slightly trembling, but as the song got braver, they fell down, melted, just like the snow melts when it welcomes spring. That’s what I saw while listening to this breathtaking song. Delicate snowflakes gathered in winter air, helplessly falling to the ground, eventually letting the sun to touch them and make their ice nature disappear. It made me feel somehow warm and safe. Sounds seemed to flow in the air, entangling the room, enchanting each part of it with the charm of the melody. In some strange way I was aware of the fact that Taemin’s song is directed to me only and to no one else. But I couldn’t understand his intensions. The violinist was so into his music that I could tell it was ringing straight from his heart. The melody was recurring, each time a little different, from cold tones changing into comforting ones, then getting faster and proudly charming listener with its beauty. At the beginning the song was shy and trembling, but it learnt courage in time, enchanting the silence with a new power. Was it really silent in the room? I did not know, hearing only Taemin’s song sang for me by his instrument. The last violin’s breath, again careful and nervous, rang beautifully and the sea of sounds calmed down, became silent.

At first, Taemin didn’t move, still holding his violin under his chin, rallying after the performance. Then his hands dropped by his sides. He was silent. Waiting. I knew I should say something, but I was afraid to speak. Taemin was clearly expecting something, he wanted to hear a specific words. The whole problem was that I did not know, what words he was waiting for.

‘Uhm… wow, Taemin, that was amazing,’ I finally mumbled, quickly realizing how stupid and lame my words are. A sparkle of disappointment flashed on Taemin’s face. However, he immediately covered it with a harsh expression.

‘Of course it was. I didn’t ask your opinion,’ he said, seemingly indifferent. Then he hesitated and frowned. The ice melted a bit. ‘You really don’t have anything more to say?’ he asked with such a serious tone of voice that I became incredibly worried.

‘Taemin, did something happen? You know you can tell me, if you have any problem,’ I claimed, trying to subtly give him a helping hand. My words abashed him, cheeks burning. He clenched his fists and loudly exhaled, as if he was preparing himself for what he intended to say.

‘I’ve got a problem, to be honest,’ he finally confessed, voice slightly trembling. ‘A very serious problem…’

‘What does it mean?’ His unusual attitude was alarming. I was worried that it might have something in common with Taemin’s mother. I wished I could set him free from all these unpleasant experiences caused by her.

‘It means that I…’

Suddenly an unexpected sound could be heard, something similar to giggling. I turned my head in this direction, giving a puzzled look to my own wardrobe.

‘Keep your paws off, jerk!’ The inside of the wardrobe spoke with familiar, a bit muted voice. I glanced at Taemin who seemed to be as shocked as me myself, even though he couldn’t know how weird this situation looked like. We heard sounds of a tussle and suddenly Key fell out of the wardrobe, landing on the floor. He was not alone, though. His body was immediately pressed by our new friend. Kibum grunted weakly, clearly having trouble with catching a breath.

‘GET OFF MY BACK OR YOU’LL REGRET THAT YOU WERE BORN!’ he coughed up, sounding dangerously even though he barely breathed. Jonghyun hurryingly moved and helped Kibum to stand up. I watched the whole situation, not sure if it’s a real life, or just a part of my messed up imagination. Kibum’s hair was ruffled, cheeks painted in pink and Jonghyun couldn’t take his sparkling eyes off him. And even though the situation was extremely indecent, any one of them didn’t seem to be ashamed of what just happened. What is more, my friend crossed his arms and looked at me accusingly.

‘Can you tell me, what the hell are you doing right now?’ he asked , angry, destroying any logic inside of my brain. I looked at him back, trying to show him how puzzled I am with my expression.

‘Key… what are you… you two… there?’ I stuttered, not sure which of this questions in my mind I should ask first. My words didn’t make the situation any better, because now Kibum was clearly furious.

‘It’s not important now, you idiot! You’d better run and catch Taemin!’ he shouted. It was the moment when I realized that my long-haired friend is gone. He must have disappear from the room in the middle of this chaos. I automatically stood up and rushed into door direction. I stopped with my hand on the handle.

‘He must be angry now…’ said Kibum, beading eye. Because of his behavior I felt guilty, even though I didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t me who unexpectedly fell out of wardrobe with a stranger… ‘You’re so slow-witted.’ Key rubbed his temples. He knew that I have no idea what is going on. ‘Not a halfpennyworth of romanticism, really…’ He glanced at me, almost with sympathy. Jonghyun giggled, watching this scene in silence, which was unusual of him. He looked like he had a lot of fun, to be honest.

‘Key, what is this all about?’ I finally spoke. ‘Because it seems like everyone knows something I don’t…’

Key sat on my bed with a silent sigh.

‘So slow-witted,’ he repeated and gave me a sharp glare. ‘It’s time for you to make your step. This poor kid have already done a lot.’ Key’s voice was harsh.

‘My step?’

‘Oh, I cannot hand it to you on a plate, it’s not my task!’ he said, irritated. ‘The only thing I can say is that Taemin wanted to tell you something by his song. What was the message… you have to guest by yourself.’ He crossed his arms with an expression saying that he won’t help me any more than this. I hesitated, still lost and puzzled.

‘GO ALREADY!’ spoke Jonghyun and peremptorily pushed me out of the room. I decided to ignore the fact that I heard a click of the door, now closed from the inside. I tried not to think about the two suspicious guys that were left alone in my bedroom as well. I had more important things to consider right now.

‘Taemin?’ I spoke into the emptiness of the hall. No reply. I searched in kitchen, living room and other places. Unsuccessfully. Taemin had really left. I couldn’t understand what made him feel so angry. In the last act of my desperate search I opened the front door of my flat and looked around.

Taemin was standing in the corridor, hiding in a corner. His eyes were closed, head resting on a cold wall. Violin and bow were lying on the floor next to him, as if he dropped them impatiently. I found it hard to ignore how beautiful was his slim neck, bended in a gentle curve. However, when he swallowed and his Adam’s apple moved, I had to look away.

‘Taemin?’ I spoke shyly. The boy shivered and I swear I saw a flash of a panic on his face, quickly covered by angry grimace.

‘Go away,’ he said, intentionally speaking to the ceiling rather than to me.

‘I don’t want to.’ I approached him. When he felt me standing in front of him, I saw these little signs of nervousness that he was involuntarily showing for the whole day. ‘Taemin, what’s wrong?’ I asked with a quiet and calming voice. ‘What is your problem? I want to help you,’ I claimed honestly. Taemin frowned his eyebrows.

‘I don’t know if you’re able to…’ he answered, almost whispering. Something was changing inside of him, something was breaking, as his expression wasn’t as tough as seconds ago. He seemed to be on the edge of hardiness, as if he was about to fall apart in little pieces. I couldn’t stand looking at this sad boy anymore. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to be a good friend.

I slowly reach out to him, and pulled him closer, locking in a warm hug and patting his back, comforting him. Taemin flexed his muscles and I mentally prepared for an attack of aggression and abrupt detruding. But nothing like this happened in a few minutes. Finally I moved him away delicately, and gave him a surprised look. Taemin’s cheeks were pink, lips slightly parted.

It were those lips that enchained my attention, binding my eyes, not allowing to look away. They were beautiful, their shape fascinated me in a strange way. I suddenly realized that I’m losing control over my own body, because I saw my hand, reaching to the alluring lips, not asking my mind for a permission. I felt a charming softness under my finger, slowly brushing it against the lips. They were so adorable, I wanted, I _needed_ to investigate their plump structure. Not reconsidering my actions, listening only to the whisper of my instinct, I grabbed Taemin’s chin, gently pulling him closer. I leaned to reach his lips. Finally, fulfilling an immoral demand of my body, I brushed my lips against Taemin’s. I wasn’t sure whatever he’ll throw me down the staircase or through the window, so I decided to enjoy this short moment in which I could shyly discover softness of his lips.

But Taemin surprised me once again.

He wasn’t moving only for a few seconds, as if his whole body was too shocked to react. But this moment didn’t last long and after getting over it, the boy, a little clumsily but with a surprising dose of strength, pulled me closer, connecting our lips in a real kiss. In that very moment I should have probably be reconsidering how crazy was the thing we were doing. But I couldn’t think straight. Taemin didn’t let me. I felt his tentative fingers, slowly entangling into my hair. I let my arms tightly embrace his waist in a reply to his actions. The lips that absorbed my own were burning hot, but at the same time they seemed shy. Inexperienced. I had no better idea than answer to those little movements and kiss Taemin deeply, passionately. I felt his heart beating, attuning to the rhythm of my own. It felt like the world around us revved up along with our breathes, and finally disappeared completely, leaving only the two of us, locked in a tight embrace. For the first time, with an unspoken allowance of the owner, I was let to investigate the beautiful sculpture of his face, to touch his soft hair, to feel the skin of his neck under my fingertips. All of those elements I’ve always watched from afar, not realizing how much I want to touch them. Now I was enjoying this little moment of privilege, rejecting my common sense, as if I was afraid that it might disappear in a second. That Taemin might push me away and become the ice prince once again.

The moment that seemed to last for the whole eternity, passed and we parted, breathing heavily. Taemin’s cheeks were redder than ever and his beautiful, swallowed from the kiss lips still enchained my attention.

‘Could it be that you’ve discovered my problem?’ he spoke, cutting the silence full of our revved up breathings. I remained silent, too woozy with what just happened to think or talk with sense. Taemin didn’t seemed to be happy with my silence, but this time he wasn’t angry at me. This time he just placed his arms around my neck and rested his head on my chest. He hugged me shyly, giving me another heart attack with his quiet and yet so loud presence. He turned his head and I felt his ticklish breath on my neck. ‘The melody that I played for you…’ I heard a quiet voice right next to my ear. ‘…didn’t tell you anything?’ Taemin’s voice was trembling and shy. ‘This song was created to show a specific color. Do you know what color it was?’ His voice turned into whisper. I glanced at the boy, snuggled into my chest. He barely bore resemblance to this harsh Taemin, that had trouble with accepting even such a simple word as _friendship_. I stroked his head, tenderly, playing with his long hair. ‘It wasn’t a tomato, nor blood. Nor anger. Hyung, do you know what means the red color of my song?’ he said, tired, sleepy. The rhythm of my breath gently swung his head. I felt a sensation in my stomach at his unusual question, that made me finally understand everything what happened. I cleared my throat, afraid that my own voice will betray me.

‘I know, I know. Now I know…’ I spoke quietly, maybe even too quietly, kissing the top of his head and swinging lightly, holding the sleepy boy in my arms. The boy that had confessed me his feelings with a song.

~*~

**A/N**

I know you must be confused about what happened in the wardrobe and why Jongkey was sitting in there. I've written a two short bonuses. One is the Jongkey thing. The other tells more about Taemin's feelings and explains a bit of what pushed him to compose a song for Minho (yeah it's TAEMIN POINT OF VIEW!!!). Look forward.


	8. Chapter 7 (Key POV)

‘What an amazing gift!’ spoke Jonghyun, staring at the sexy boxers with desire. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to me?’ he asked, hope visible in his eyes. I snorted loudly.

‘Are you such an unappeased animal?’ I talked back and Jonghyun winked at me, saucily. What a pervert. I would love to tease him a bit, but I had way more important things to do.

Minho whispered a few words to Taemin and they both stood up. Thereby hangs a tale, I knew it, judging by the younger’s expression.

‘So, kitten? Will you get me such pair of boxers?’ I heard Jonghyun’s voice, but I was too concentrated on watching these two boys that had just left, to give him my attention. He must have noticed that I was ignoring him, because he made a pouty face. ‘Hey, are you even listening to me? I’m hitting on you and you don’t…’

‘Shhh…’ I placed my finger on his lips to shut him up. I didn’t want Taemin and Minho to hear us. He glanced at my hand, squinting, what made me think he looked actually adorable, especially with this pouty, childish expression of his. But it didn’t matter at the moment. I had important things to do. I pricked up my ears, trying hard to hear the conversation that was taking place in a kitchen.

‘What’s going on? Is it some kind of conspiracy?’ spoke Jonghyun and I felt tickles on my finger as his lips moved. For a brief moment I considered telling him what was this all about. But he didn’t seem to be trustworthy and subtle enough to share such secret with him. I shook my head and moved away.

‘Nothing. I have to go to the adjacent room for something,’ I said with an indifferent tone of voice. Then I glanced at him, lasers in my eyes. ‘Stay _here_. Don’t go anywhere,’ I ordered and quickly left the living room. Trying my best to be as quiet as possible, I sneaked to my (Minho’s) bedroom.

What was this all about? That’s easy, I’m not an idiot. There certainly was something in between my frog friend and his lovely neighbor. I noticed it as soon as I met the two of them for the first time. One look into Minho’s eyes and you could see the love overflowing. Even though he didn’t actually realize it, what wasn’t even surprising. He’s always been a dumbass. My silent observation of Taemin’s behavior made me sure that it’s not a one-sided love. And that’s why I had a job to do. I wanted to help these kids in understanding their puppy feelings.

And today was _the day_. At least that’s my conclusion, even though no one informed me. Minho wasn’t the only one who noticed that Taemin’s composing. Additionally, I was the only one who actually knew _the reason_. How? It was me myself who gave this kid the idea. I told him that if he didn’t know what gift should he choose for Minho, the best solution would be creating something by himself, putting his heart into it. When I saw him today, bringing his violin with him, I knew he took my advice. The fact that he left the living room with Minho was not a random situation. I was sure he wouldn’t play for my frog friend with us watching. That’s why he took a chance to be with him one-to-one.

And basically that’s what brought me here, to Minho’s room, searching for a nice hiding place. You can call me intrusive or even crazy, but I just had to see it with my own eyes. It was me who helped them, after all. That’s why I wanted to hear the confession so much, knowing well that any of them won’t recount it to me later.

I quickly decided to hide in Choi’s wardrobe, that was almost empty now, as it was in the middle of a general laundering of his dirty clothes, that I ordered him to do. I snuggled into the wooden inside of the closet, peeking through slightly opened door. Not even a minute later the room was entered by someone who definitely should not be there.

 ‘What are you doing here, you idiot?’ I hissed and Jonghyun looked around, disorientated. I opened the door and waved at him. His eyes widened when he saw me sitting in a wardrobe. He approached me with puzzled expression. When he was close enough, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into my hiding place. He was too shocked to protest.

‘What the hell?’ he spoke, but I shut him up with my hand on his mouth. However it didn’t work for a long time, because I suddenly felt this pervert licking my palm. I backed off abruptly.

‘You’re fucked up!’

‘Same for you…’

I sighed heavily, realizing that Taemin and Minho can enter the room in any second. If they hear our voices, my genius plan will be ruined. And Taemin’s playing probably will be ruined, too. I couldn’t let that happen.

‘It’s about Minho and Taemin,’ I spoke so quietly, that Jonghyun had to lean to me, even though we were close to each other already. It was all Minho’s fault, he should have bought a bigger closet.

‘What’s with them?’ he whispered back, raising his eyebrows. I glanced at the door once again, worried. ‘You told me their getting along well…’ Jonghyun was so lost, trying hard to understand.

‘Yeah, very well, too well… and that’s the case,’ I replied, raising one eyebrow tellingly. He seemed to think about my words. I could almost see gears turning in his head, under the cover of ruffled blonde hair. Eventually, he put his hand on his mouth, shocked.

‘Shit. Don’t tell me that…’ he stopped, seeing me nodding my head. ‘That’s not what I intended when I told him to take care of Taemin…’ he spoke to himself, rather than to me. Suddenly his face was painted with tenderness. ‘My Minnie is growing up so fast.’ His voice was cracking, as if he spoke of his own son. His attachment to this boy made me smile. But then his expression changed into scared one. ‘How far did they go?’

‘They didn’t go anywhere yet,’ I replied with a sigh. ‘That’s why I’m sitting in here. I’m hoping Taemin will confess to Minho today. I’m going to make sure this dumbass frog won’t screw this.’

Jonghyun nodded his head slowly, probably sorting all of the new information in his head. We became awkwardly silent. I kept on peeking through the door nervously. I even started to worry that Taemin decided to play for Minho in the kitchen, even though I didn’t feel like he would do this. Totally not his style. But in such case I would miss the whole performance.

My thoughts were cut off by Jonghyun who was clearly _bored_ , even if he certainly did care about our friends happiness. He made use of the narrow space of the closet and started to blow air into my ear, trying to get my attention. Just like a child. I glanced at him with a warning in my eyes, but he replied me with a pert smile. I hit his head, trying not to make any sound. He rubbed his scalp, looking at me accusingly. I hardly managed to look away and ignore his teasing. I had to concentrate on my mission.

Finally, after ten minutes passed, we heard footsteps and the door opened. We quickly glanced at each other, and then our eyes back on the room. Minho sat on his bed, watching the boy that stood in front of him with a puzzled expression. Taemin tried to look calm, but he was extremely nervous and his hands were shaking. I watched him, stressed, as he straightened his back and started to play. So romantic! The melody was beautiful, so beautiful that I felt my heart ache. If someone played like this for me…

The magic of the moment was, of course, ruined by this stupid dinosaur and his way too touchy hands and way too big love for skinship. The fact that we stuck in one closet, really close to each other, was clearly not enough for him. Even though it was our first time meeting. What a pervert! However, his teasing was surprisingly pleasant. But I had my priority! I clenched my teeth, doing my best in ignoring this child’s play.

And then I felt his hands on my butt.

Enough was enough. I pulled away abruptly and fell out of the closet, landing on the floor of Minho’s room.


	9. Bonus: Taemin POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attention: this bonus is describing Taemin's feelings after 6th chapter and before 7th! Sorry for messing up ;___;

A cold wind entangled in my long hair, breezily travelled along bare neck and embedded feverish skin. I felt warmth immediately escaping from my hands, so I quickly placed them on my burning cheeks, searching for alleviation. But my skin evidently did not want to surrender to the healing impact of winter. A fire seemed to blow me up from the inside, emanating from my burning heart that couldn’t find a peace.

 And it was all this idiot’s fault…

I touched a fabric of bedding that surrounded me, searching for alleviation in familiar softness of pillow and stable roughness of sheet. But it didn’t help in blotting out the memory that was haunting me. In removing the thought that made me lie on my bed, lost in the sounds of the night, unable to turn off my brain and fall asleep.

Uncountable kisses of snowflakes kept on cooling my skin, but it was not enough. Not enough to get rid of this haunting touch that felt much more real than those elusive snow petals. Even though my mind tried to forget, my body stubbornly remembered, forcing me to repeatedly experience it again and again.

I sat up abruptly, realizing that falling asleep is impossible. What’s the use of lying to myself? I knew that this burning touch won’t leave me alone, won’t let my heart beat in a normal rhythm again. The touch that questioned my whole self-control.

‘Stupid frog…’ I mumbled under my breath, as if I tried to inform the emptiness that surrounded me, what I think about him. It was his rash and tactless behavior that made me suffer this much.

Yes, it was _his touch_. The warmth of those big, way too big, hands that sneaked onto the skin of my neck, unexpected and uninvited, making my cheeks burn so hot, that I barely could believe.

‘Ughhh…’ I growled in irritation, expressing my disbelief, and covered my face with the pillow. Why this idiot had to come where he wasn’t invited? How could he think he’s allowed to help me in dressing up? And how dare he be so close that my thumping heart begged for more?

The words that he spoke in the silence of changing room were still echoing inside of my brain.

_‘Taemin, I…’_ – you what? What did you want to say, Minho? Why Key hyung had to interrupt you?

I shook my head abruptly. It couldn’t be anything important. This idiot certainly didn’t mean _those words_ , that heated me and scared me at the same time, continuously spinning around my head. It must have been something stupid like:

‘ _Taemin, I_ hate shopping.’

_‘Taemin, I_ want to go home.’

_‘Taemin, I_ don’t like an opera.’

_‘Taemin, I_ think winter is boring.’

_‘Taemin, I_ love playing in a snow together.’

_‘Taemin, I_ want to draw you…’

I pressed pillow to my chest, deluding myself that it will somehow calm down this crazy music inside of me. No, it could not be _those words_. Minho wasn’t percipient enough, even though he was older and should be more experienced than me. He behaved like a child. Unlike his friend. I was shivering strangely each time he was around. He seemed to know about everything that haunted me. It made me feel vulnerable.  All of his remarks and suspicious acts signalized me that he _knew_. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly he _knew_ , but he seemed to be way more aware of my situation than me myself.

I touched a cool wall with my cheek. I didn’t even know when my hand had found a mobile phone. I didn’t need this devilish device. It messed up once and that was enough. If not for this stupid phone I wouldn’t call this idiot in the middle of a night, like a scared child.

_‘Taemin? Did something happen?’_ – his worried words seemed to escape the speaker each time I recalled our late night talk.

And this voice…

The voice that kept on ringing in my ears, rudely ignoring an hour and circumstances and lack of invitation to my heart. The voice that captivated me with its deep and warm sound that made my ears beg for more. The voice that was more beautiful than any music in this world. It was frustrating that my rebellious heart loved to listen to this voice way more than to most notable pieces. How could it be better than Paganini or Vivaldi? Why in the middle of night’s silence all I wanted to hear was this haunting voice, the voice that spoke only nonsenses, foolish and tactless. The voice that I was addicted to.

 ‘He can’t even sing…’ I mumbled to my pillow, trying to insult this annoying man that drove me crazy.  The thing that was happening to me was totally ridiculous and nonsensical, almost funny. But I could not deny the obvious truth.

I stood up abruptly and started to walk around my room, the same path as always. With each step I felt the stability of the floor. But I still felt like falling down. In desperate need of something tactile, I unconsciously reached for my violin. My body reacted faster than my brain, back straightened, senses ready to meet with the magic of the sound. But I didn’t let my hands to move the bow through the strings. I stopped in the middle of movement.

I did not want to play. There already was this melody, forming inside of my brain, flooding through my veins, finding its way out in my fingers that were tapping windowsill to the rhythm of a nonexistent song. I did not want to play. I was afraid what would this unknown melody, living inside of me, tell me.

I leaned on the windowsill, inviting the frost to touch my skin. I deeply inhaled the night air, enjoying this inimitable feeling when hands of the winter clench your neck and brighten up your thoughts. But it didn’t work properly this time. This time I thought about different hands, gentle and warm. Unreal touch of winter was no longer enough for me. I wanted those hands, _his hands_ to brush against my skin.  
  
‘Lee Taemin, you pervert…’ My own words danced with the wind and gladly disappeared in between the shush of the city.

But my mind already proceeded me to think about this snowdrift fall, so crazy and unexpected that I still wasn’t quite sure what happened then. However, what I remembered clearly, was how strongly I felt Minho’s body under my own. How all of my senses ran wild, begging for touch. How good it felt to find this warmth and safety in someone’s arms.

And when Minho held my wrists… the world span around and I was quietly hoping… for a brief moment I thought that maybe…

‘Lee Taemin, you desperate idiot…’ I mumbled, this time a bit louder so that my tree neighbors could hear my words. But they seem to laugh at me, shushing, singing, giggling.

It must have been desperation. How else would I call my addiction to this man? He wasn’t worth my attention… Besides those hands that were too warm and those lips that seemed too soft. But it didn’t change the fact that he was a complete idiot. How could I fell for him?

‘He’s so stupid that he won’t even realize he might like me…’ I muttered. This thought, once told, didn’t want to disappear, turning into a plan inside of my head.

‘That’s right… It’s ridiculous that I’m the only one who’s suffering,’ I said, my hands lightly touching violin again.

‘I have to let him know, this dumbass.’ I snuggled my neck in wooden structure of the instrument.

‘I’ll make him realize…’ I spoke quietly, aware of the fact that my voice is losing its confidence with each word and starting to slightly tremble.

That’s why I decided to stop thinking and let my fingers play, allowing the melody of my heart to dance across the room and sneak to the territory of the night. Even though it was hard to accept, I knew exactly what color my song will be. I knew it as well as the trees that listened to me playing and comforted me with their quiet whispers.


	10. Chapter 8

I clumsily packed my artwork to a folder and subconsciously headed to the hall. I started to slowly tie my shoes, trying hard not to think about anything. Yes, not thinking seemed to be way healthier to my aching head, than thinking. However, on the edges of consciousness there still appeared those fragments of views and words, that tried to destroy my calmness. If not for the fact that I didn’t sleep a wink for the whole night, I would probably consider happenings of yesterday as one of these weird and incredibly realistic dreams that I tended to have. When Taemin left my flat yesterday, I realized I still had my homework to paint. That’s why I spent the rest of the night with easel and brushes. That was an official version, at least. Because I knew well that even without a work to do, I wouldn’t be able to sleep after what happened.

‘Well done, Choi,’ an amused voice spoke. I raised my head. Key was leaning on the door-frame of my bedroom, playful sparkles shining in his cat-like eyes. I did my best to ignore the sigh of Jonghyun, that apparently wandered through my room without his shirt on. I glanced at Key questioningly, not sure what he was talking about. He couldn’t _know_ , right? Or could he?

My friend must have read my mind, because he rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t think that I’m not aware of what you two did in the corridor last night!’ He claimed. ‘The whole tenement house is already gossiping about it…’ I froze at his statement. I still didn’t quite understand what had happened and I certainly didn’t want anyone else to witness it. I glanced at Key cautiously, wondering if he’s not joking to scare me. And then I noticed his unusual looks. Eyes sparkling weirdly, hair ruffled and clothes creased. He seemed so different than his usual self.

‘And what you two did in there?’ I attacked, not quite sure if I really want to know the answer.

‘Oh, you shamelessly celebrated your birthday together, so we decided to do it in our own way,’ he talked back, not ashamed at all. I decided not to ask for more details. Key frowned. ‘What are you doing, anyway? He’ll be waiting for you…’

‘Since when did you know about this?’ I asked, surprising my own self.

‘Since the beginning,’ he said confidently. ‘I tried to help you somehow, but you’re a bloody idiot and even my genius plans could not work a miracle. Taemin is so unlucky, but he did a great job anyway. To confess your love with a help of violin, this kid has a good sense! He impressed me.’

I gulped loudly, hearing the word _love_. Even though I understood Taemin’s message well, this word still sounded strangely and unfamiliar in my ears.

‘Don’t think too much, or you’ll have to deal with a headache,’ spoke Kibum, patting my back. My head hurt from a long time ago, though. ‘Just do what your heart tells you to.’

I raised my eyebrows, never expecting to hear such type of advice from my friend. Especially from him.

‘Just like you?’ I asked, glancing at the inside of my bedroom, partly hidden behind his back. Key smiled charmingly.

‘Kinda…’ he said, sending me a flying kiss and shutting the door again.

~*~

‘Expressing your emotions on a paper is good, but everything has its boarders and limits, Mr. Choi,’ said the lecturer, glancing at me with sympathy. There was my artwork in his hands, the one that I’ve been paining for the whole night. To be honest, when I realized what I’ve created, I was in shock. It seemed like a few hours ago, when I was painting, my mind didn’t work quite properly. The whole paper was covered with chaotic stains of red in various shades. It was a total abstraction, without any concrete shapes or meaningful composition. Loud and incomprehensible. Weird and… strangely familiar. As if my heart wore the same pattern of red chaos.

I scratched my head, not sure how to answer to my lecturer’s statement. In his old, clever eyes I saw concern. ‘Choi, do you have any problem with yourself?’

I froze at the question. A stupid thought came to my mind, telling that my teacher already knows about everything that had happened. I quickly rejected such possibility and cursed at Kibum in my mind, blaming him for scaring me.

‘So much angriness and aggression on one paper…’ continued my lecturer thoughtfully.

‘It’s not angriness and aggression,’ I spoke sooner, than I reconsidered my words. The teacher studied me cautiously. I knew exactly what question he will ask in the next place and I certainly didn’t want to answer it. I glanced at my watch. ‘I am so sorry, but I have to go now,’ I mumbled hurryingly and impolitely leaving the lecture hall.

I rushed through the corridor, aware of the fact that break has started about five minutes ago. I found Taemin still sitting in his class on his place. There were a few more students in the room, but all of them distant from my neighbor. The atmosphere was heavy, as if there was some conflict hanging in the air above our heads. I approached Taemin, took his hand and we left the class together.

Not much changed between us since yesterday. I mean… in fact _everything_ changed, but we still acted like before. At least tried to. Never before had the touch of his hand scald my skin so much and it was hard for me to concentrate on anything else than all of those shadows and flares playing on his face. But I just couldn’t bring myself to mention last night. I was afraid that it might have been just a crazy dream of mine.

‘What happened? They bullied you?’ I asked worryingly, leading Taemin to a bench in the courtyard, the one that we sat on when he told me about his disability. I liked this place, often spending my breaks in here, watching the sky. This time courtyard was full of students, since the day was very sunny. Some of them glanced at me and Taemin. Winter silence was shattered by whispers. I couldn’t understand why everyone acted strangely today, but I was ready to hit anyone who disturbed Taemin.

The boy gave me a crooked smile, clearly not intending to answer my question. He sat closer to me and with a bit sleepy gesture leaned his head on my shoulder. I felt relief seeing the first sign of tenderness from him today. I watched his behavior closely, hoping to find an assurance of what had happened yesterday. I hesitated for a moment and finally softly pulled him closer, hugging the boy with one arm. He sighed quietly and snuggled into my chest. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night. Taemin seemed to be exhausted. I raised my hand and gently touched his cheek.

‘Hi,’ spoke an unfamiliar voice, pulling me out of the trans that I fell into, influenced by the warmth of Taemin’s body and this slight swinging of our breaths.

 Our bench was approached by a boy. I didn’t know him, but it seemed like he passed by me a few times in academy’s corridors, since he looked a bit familiar. I guessed that he was older than me, a student of the vocal department. I felt confused about his sudden approach, but I nodded my head and he smiled, placing himself next to Taemin. The boy was emanating with optimistic aura. He seemed to be very cheerful, which made me weirdly suspicious. However, I acted like nothing bothered me.

‘Call me Onew,’ said the boy, friendly, glancing at me and Taemin a bit too intensively.

‘Nice to meet you. I’m Minho and he’s my…’ I hesitated, suddenly realizing that I don’t know how to call Taemin. The word _friend_ became faded and outdated, as if it wasn’t useful anymore. Much to my surprise, I saw understanding in Onew’s eyes. He nodded his head and smiled gently.

‘I understand,’ he said, not waiting for me to answer. I raised my eyebrows. How the hell could he understand if even I wasn’t quite sure about this? I suddenly thought about those stares that Key and Jonghyun used to give me and about the fact that my pink-haired friend knew about everything from a long time ago. It seemed like I was really the only one who couldn’t understand.

‘I’m Taemin,’ spoke the boy that I’ve been hugging. He sat straight and shook his hand with Onew, who gave us another warm look.

‘You don’t even know how much I envy you right now…’ he claimed with a dreamy expression.

‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ I said, confused. Onew frowned his eyebrows, suddenly worried.

‘Oh, I know such isolation may be terrible, but I think it’s worth it.’

‘What?’

‘Your love, of course,’ he claimed, making me even more confused. So it seemed like everyone really knew… but how? ‘They will be teasing and gossiping for some time, but then they’ll get tired of it and leave you alone, trust me.’ He smiled, this time in a sad way.

‘You’re…’ I didn’t finish my question, because suddenly the word _gay_ rang in my head loudly, as I realized that what happened yesterday made me somehow one of them. I stared at Onew blankly with wide eyes, shocked with the conclusion.

‘Yes,’ he answered, guessing what I was about to ask.

‘Where is your boyfriend?’ spoke Taemin, that stayed silent until now. I even thought that he might have fallen asleep. Onew scratched his head, sadness filling his friendly eyes.

‘I haven’t found the right person yet.’ He blushed. ‘That’s why I envy you.’

‘Onew, tell me,’ I started hesitantly. ‘How does everyone knows about us?’ I looked around, afraid that someone is hearing out conversation. Taemin made a nervous movement and Onew raised his eyebrow, surprised.

‘What do you mean how? Since this kid appeared in academy you two were inseparable, walking through corridors and holding hands. I considered approaching you then, but didn’t want to embarrass you, if my guessing was wrong. But today you admitted it yourself, didn’t you? At least that’s what I heard…’

I stared at him with my eyes wide opened.

‘I didn’t…’

‘I did,’ spoke Taemin harshly and confidently. I gave him a puzzled look.

‘You?’ I stammered and he frowned, annoyed.

‘You asked if they bullied me. In fact they wanted to know if I pay you for being my dog,’ he said. I burst out laughing at this statement.

‘And what was the answer?’

‘That I own my dog and there is no need for payment.’ He smiled evilly. I felt rush of hotness on my face, even though we were sitting outside, in the middle of a winter afternoon. I probably should feel insulted. After all, I was compared to a dog. But I felt satisfaction instead. He called me _his own_. I belonged to him. I felt butterflies in my stomach at the thought. I leaned to Taemin and pecked his cold lips.

‘Uhm… maybe I shouldn’t disturb you…’ spoke Onew. I completely forgot that he was still sitting on a bench and watching us.

‘Don’t go.’ Taemin pushed me away gently. I pouted and Onew laughed heartily.

‘Okay, I’ll stay. I approached you because I want to ask you something, to be honest.’ I suddenly felt nervous again at his words. ‘Have you heard about the school trip?’

‘Trip?’ I’ve been a student of The Arts’ Academy for a few years and never heard about any trips organized by this institution.

‘Yeah. I was surprised, too. It’s a new project that headmaster came up with this year,’ Onew explained. He glanced at us shyly. ‘I was informed that students will be living in a three-person rooms… I thought that maybe… Maybe you would like to take me in?’

I inhaled loudly, imagining living in one room with Taemin. I suddenly felt hotness coming back to my cheeks. Onew must have get my reaction wrong, because he became even more nervous.

‘It would be better to be together than to share a room with someone who would glare at us like at aliens,’ he explained quickly.

‘I agree,’ spoke Taemin, unexpectedly. I did not like it. I didn’t know why, but Onew’s presence was getting on my nerves, even though he didn’t do anything wrong. Quite the opposite, he was the only person in this courtyard that stayed friendly towards us. I ignored this angriness inside of me and forced a smile.

‘Okay,’ I said, after a moment of hesitation. Onew seemed to be really happy.

‘Thank you.’

I was watching him standing up and approaching to hug us thankfully. I felt something boiling inside of me when he touched Taemin. He hugged him much longer than it was necessary. The younger one laughed at something Onew whispered to his ear. And then our new friend walked away.

 ‘What was that?’ I asked, trying hard to sound indifferent.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about…’ Taemin smiled maliciously. He didn’t give me a chance to continue the topic. He turned to me and reached for my chin. He pulled me close and kissed me sweetly, making me feel warmth with my whole body. For moments like this I could stand the whole day of glares and whispers. It was worth it all. Nothing even mattered. The way people looked at us or the fact that we were both boys. And that it took one day for my life to turn upside down. It wasn’t important. The meaning of these facts faded up against the warmth of Taemin’s lips.

~*~

‘Love…’ I mumbled in a silence of a room, letting the word to sound with its whole strange solemnity. I frowned my eyebrows and sat more comfortably. I thought that maybe if I tell the word out loud, its mysterious sense will magically clarify to me. But my attempt didn’t work the way I wished. The only thing I accomplished was embarrassment.

I cleared my throat, deciding on one more try.

‘Love…’ This time my voice was much more hearty, lifting the magic word up to the ceiling, travelling alongside walls and getting back to my ears. I contemplated the sound of the word, tasting its specific color with my tongue, letting it to run down my spine and brush my skin with a warm breath.

I moved my hand and a piece of paper clanged softly, greeting a pencil. I saw a grey contour of a window, that my hands decided to draw. An ordinary rectangle built-in a wall, surrounded by damp patches, fading in the darkness of the evening… How could it wake up such strong emotions in me? It seemed to be the center of my universe, an unseen power that bonded my eyes.

‘Love…’ I whispered once again, coming to a conclusion that the word is much too short and ordinary to express the whole range of colors and palette of images that were hidden behind its syllables. And how did I even know it? I’ve never fell in love…

Someone moved inside of the room that I’ve been observing. My heart beat faster the moment I saw a slender boy, sketched on a palette of shadows. This view cut all my stupid thoughts off. The feeling that possessed me while watching his closed eyes and slightly parted lips was so crazily light and bright. I didn’t care what was the name of this feeling. The only thing that mattered was Taemin’s music that made the whole world disappear.

~*~

‘What do you think? Is it going well?’ asked Taemin, not stopping his playing. His room was flooded with a sweet melody sang by his violin. I glared at my easel critically and sighed. These days each Taemin’s song was red to me.

I put the brush away and looked at my friend… or my boyfriend, maybe? I still didn’t know how to call him. Since the birthday party his behavior towards me changed, as if he finally let the spring wind into his heart, ice melting away from his attitude. But he still did not mention  had happened even once. Maybe it’s a bit childish, but I wanted to receive some kind of assurance that his life has changed as much as mine. Honest talk, that’s what I needed. But I knew well that this stubborn boy would rather jump through the window than confirm that he likes me.

I had to try anyway.

I gulped nervously and took a deep breath.

‘Taemin?’ I started shyly, but my voice drown in the sea of sounds. The violinist, even if he heard me, decided to ignore me. I wasn’t even surprised. His face was once again painted with this tenderness that he showed only towards his music. ‘We need to talk,’ I tried again, feeling as if I was speaking to a wall. Taemin didn’t stop playing. What is more, he moved the bow through the strings with even more passion. ‘You know you can’t avoid it forever…’ A long sound vibrated between us, building a wall that Taemin was hiding behind. He turned around, back to me and with wild stubbornness played the last notes of the piece. Then he straightened his back and pointed at the window with his bow. It was still surprising to me that everything in his flat had its place and he unmistakably knew where particular things stood. In his own apartment he seemed to be fully capable. And that’s how I treated him anyway. I didn’t think about him as someone weaker than the rest of the people. Quite the opposite. Taemin was strong. Or at least he tried to be.

I looked in the direction he pointed.

‘Flowers,’ he said, putting his instrument away and approaching a vase standing on a window sill. It wasn’t long ago when I noticed that his room was always decorated with a fresh bouquet. Flowers were different each time. Today Taemin’s window was quietly painted with a soft attendance of tea roses, tied with a shiny ribbon. The boy touched petals gently. ‘I played a song about those flowers for you. But it seems you’ve heard something different…’ he spoke, deep in thoughts.

I frowned at the statement. ‘I don’t like flowers.’

‘I do. They are so soft. I love touching them,’ he claimed, brushing his cheek against the petals. ‘Do you know who gave them to me?’ he asked, smiling sneakily. ‘A secret friend… or an admirer, maybe?’

I coughed loudly to mask my surprise. Taemin giggled maliciously.

‘I’m just joking…’ he said after a moment of silence. ‘You’re the only friend that I have, to be honest. Not counting Jonghyun…’

I felt sting in my chest. These were not the words I expected.

‘Friend?’ I asked, trying hard not to show how much I care about what Taemin will say next. But he smiled only, in a weird, shy way. He pulled one flower out of the bouquet and headed into my direction, placing himself on a sofa next to me.

I could see the concentration on his face, when his hand travelled through my body. It stopped on my jaw. Taemin brushed his fingers upwards, to the right ear. Then he smiled brightly and quickly put the tea rose behind my ear. I was so surprised that I became speechless for a moment. I must have looked like an idiot, but Taemin seemed to enjoy what he have done.

‘Jonghyun is often doing this to me. He says that I look even more pretty this way,’ he said, a bit grumpy. ‘Maybe thanks to this you won’t be so annoyingly handsome…’ he added, speaking rather to himself than to me. I felt a rush of satisfaction.

‘So you really consider me handsome?’ I asked, making him frown. He crinkled up his nose, cutely.

‘Maybe a little bit… not much more than Jonghyun hyung…’ he said hesitantly.

‘And what are your criteria?’

‘Hmm…’ He thought for a moment. ‘I like it when eyes are big and pretty shaped…’ he claimed, biting his lip, making my heart jump inside of the chest. ‘…lips…’ he stopped talking, blush painting his skin. He might have acted indifferent and calm but in moments like this, I could read colorful emotions covering his face. Leaded by an impulse, I leaned closer and brushed my lips against his.

‘Taemin…’ I whispered on his lips and he stopped breathing, trying hard not to show me what I was doing to his heart. ‘…I think you’re someone much more than a friend to me,’ I confessed with a slightly trembling voice.

‘I told you already…’ he answered quietly. ‘You’re my problem, Minho.’

His fast breathing on my cheek was magnetizing. Taemin frowned his eyebrows, apparently trying to stay concentrated, even though I was feeling more and more crazy at the moment.

‘At the beginning you were just a voice,’ he started slowly, careful in choosing words. ‘A nice and pleasant voice, but unfamiliar. Strange,’ he continued and I watched him as the corners of his lips formed in a gentle smile. ‘I was rude to you, maybe a bit kicking you around…’

‘A bit…’ I repeated accusingly. He smiled in this crooked way of his and patted my head. Answering this gesture, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, reaching for his lips. Taemin held on to my arm with surprising dose of strength and kissed me back. It seemed like these little moments when we were so close became some kind of intoxicant to him. He absorbed my lips passionately, not leaving space for a single breath. Taemin’s need for closeness was so urgent, as if he was trying to make up for all of these years spent alone. I kept answering his actions until we both ran out of breath.

‘Uhm… you was talking about how much you regret being rude to me…?’ I spoke, trying to come back to our conversation. I was the one who wanted the serious talk, now destroying it with kisses and hugs again. Pitiful.

‘I don’t regret it, you wish…’ corrected Taemin, his proud expression making a contrast with his rosary cheeks and ruffled hair. ‘It’s just… I didn’t like the thought of being dependent on someone…’ he explained.

I took his hand and interlaced our fingers. Taemin smiled at this simple gesture.

‘But no matter how much I insulted you, you didn’t give up,’ he continued, playing with our fingers. ‘Time passed and I realized that I don’t want you to leave anymore. Something that I was afraid of from the very beginning, really happened.’ Taemin held my hand tighter. ‘I became addicted to you.’

Hearing those words, I smiled like an idiot and leaned my forehead on Taemin’s.

‘So… you’re saying that I’m your drug?’ I asked playfully and Taemin puffed his cheeks.

‘If you want to be compared to an intoxication that steals people’s lives, then okay. You can be a drug,’ he answered, pugnacious.

I smiled widely, even though he could not see it. I’ve already got used to it, but sometimes I wished I could look straight into his eyes, see his thoughts, read his feelings. I caressed his hand instead.

‘Taemin?’

‘Hm?’

‘Who gave you the flowers?’

‘Is it bothering you so much?’ He giggled, clearly satisfied. ‘It’s from my mother…’ he said with a colorless tone of voice. I stiffened, like I always did when we spoke about this woman.

‘She sends you flowers?’ I asked, suddenly feeling extremely antipathetic towards the bouquet standing in the window. Taemin nodded his head.

‘Everyday,’ he added, reaching for a flower that was still placed behind my ear. He touched soft rosary head for the last time and then started to pull petals out, one after another. ‘She came to conclusion that this _dead room_ must be decorated somehow.’ His voice was quiet, but hands cruel, as he kept on stealing the flower’s dignity.

‘Isn’t it surprising that I turn on the lights each time I enter a room?’ These words made me realize that he really had this habit, rather weird for a blind person. I remembered his night performances clearly. Taemin almost never played in a darkness. ‘It’s her upbringing as well. Since I was little she kept on telling me that she won’t watch me sitting in a darkness like a vampire. In five-year-old boy’s ears it sounded like a nightmare…’ I shivered, imagining such cruelty coming from a mother.

‘I know I’m… difficult.’ Taemin frowned. ‘My character is an outcome of her behavior. While other children played in a park, I was working on my French and practicing with violin. I was doing whatever she ordered me to, longing to hear a compliment for once at least. I knew she consider me as a failure, a vice, and that she won’t let me meet people until I’m good enough.’

Taemin sighed heavily, drowning in memories.

‘Sometimes I hated. I couldn’t bring myself to hate mother, since I only had her. So I located my angriness inside of the violin, considering it as an instrument of torture… but I always came back to it eventually, as it was my only friend that lessened the pain.’

‘What about Jonghyun?’ I wasn’t even sure if I’m allowed to interrupt. For the first time ever Taemin opened up and told me so much about him.

He smiled softly, hearing my question.

‘Yes, hyung helped me as much as he could. Mother hired him as a music teacher. He was obligated to make me understand how this difficult art works. At the beginning I was treating him as my enemy, another legate of my mother. But time passed and I noticed that he’s caring more about my happiness than his payment. That’s how we became friends. He was my eyes. He taught me colors and emotions connected with them. We expressed it through the music together.’

I suddenly felt thankful toward this crazy friend of his, that I tended to consider as a madman.

I back hugged the boy that was sitting next to me and placed my head on his arm. ‘You’re not difficult,’ I whispered to his ear. ‘Just a bit brittle and very, very stubborn.’

I felt tickling of his long hair on my face, as he chuckled. He leaned on me letting me hug him and share the warmth of our beating hearts.


	11. Chapter 9

‘Are you going to ever let me in, or should I just look for a public toilet?’ I exclaimed in annoyance, hitting the closed door of my own bathroom.

‘Man can’t have a single peaceful moment!’ I heard an outraged voice in response, and in a second the door became wide opened. I glanced at my friend and whistled quietly. Rebellious grimace came as a reply.

‘What? Do you envy me looking this good?’ He snorted, throwing a wet towel at me. Wet and, much to my dismay, stained in pink.

‘Key, what is this?’ I asked, when he passed by me and headed to the hall.

‘Oh, why are you so surprised? It’s just a bit more of eyeliner and, well, the new hat,’ he stated, studying himself in the mirror with a smile on his face.

‘Kibum, I’m not talking about you. I mean my destroyed towel!’ I exclaimed, but came to be ignored by my friend, who was clearly too occupied with fixing his already perfectly styled hair.

I studied him once again, and I had to admit he was looking _extremely_ good, what was rare in case of Key, because he always paid so much attention to his looks, that I’ve never actually seen him looing _bad_. My friend was crazy over clothes, fashion, make up, accessories, and all of this weird stuff that guys usually ignored. Just like me. But this time he looked really good. Not comically, not extravagantly. Just good. Maybe even elegant? He wore a fitting, white shirt with black, thin braces, dark jeans that emphasized his slim legs and black hat, that contrasted with pink fringe, making the whole outfit look special.

‘Like what you see?’ I heard a malicious voice. Kibum finished fixing his hair and glared at me, mocking smile forming on his lips.

‘What’s the occasion? You plan on sneaking into a fashion show? If it goes well, I’ll read about you in the papers. I can already imagine the header: “Pink freak in a…” I haven’t finished my sentence, because Key pursed his lips, suddenly very disgruntled with my behavior.

‘I’m going to have a… meeting, if you have to know,’ he claimed, his fingers playing with earrings in one of his ear.

I was surprised with this sudden change in his mood. I must have lost my mind, because for a brief moment I was sure I noticed shyness in my friend’s eyes. It did not fit the Kibum I knew. However, the weird expression quickly disappeared, replaced by a mocking smile, that I certainly didn’t like.

‘And how are your affairs of the heart, my frog friend?’ he asked, watching my dropping expression with a wild satisfaction.

‘And how are your affairs of a bed, my pink-haired freak?’ I snapped back, as he was the last person on Earth with whom I’d like to discuss such topics. He seemed to be fighting with urge to stick his tongue at me, but managed to restrain. He put his hands on his hips.

‘Are you jealous? Maybe _mister investigative_ would like to share his own experiences?’

‘I’m not…’ I started, but Key gestured with his finger, and shut me up.

‘Not _yet_ , my dear. Not yet…’ he claimed, mysteriously. Then put his coat on and left the flat.

~*~

‘Taemin?’ I spoke, leaning on a balcony doorframe. A dark, slender silhouette was sharply contrasting with a winter landscape, that could be seen everywhere around. ‘Taemin, what are you doing?’ The silhouette made a slight movement, but that was the only response. The boy seemed to be way more interested in the cold wind, than in talking to me. I sighed silently, and stepped out of the warm inside of my flat, ignoring the frost that clenched my bare skin. I leaned on a railing, right next to Taemin, and studied his face, painted with a peaceful expression. My eyes travelled from ears, partly hidden behind long hair, through soft jawline, to shaped lips. The boy frowned, feeling my careful staring.

‘I’m listening,’ he replied with a quiet voice. His answer did not explain much. I kept on watching him, as he began to fall deep into his thoughts again.

‘What are you listening to?’ I asked, smiling at this specific kind of sensitivity painted across his face. He seemed to be attuning his emotions to the sounds that surrounded him. Sounds that were so common, that I barely noticed them, but for him they were building the image of this world. I raised my hand and tucked his hair behind his ear.

‘I’m listening to the city.’ He frowned, a little wrinkle forming on his forehead. He didn’t react to my tender gesture, probably lost to deep in his own thoughts to notice it. I was curious, what was on his mind. I tried my best to listen closely, but the only thing I heard were distant noises of cars. Nothing worth such attention, as was given by Taemin. ‘Look at the sky,’ he ordered, and I did as I was told to.

A beautiful view could be seen from my balcony, especially at this particular part of an afternoon that has already started to melt into evening. The day was quickly slipping by, plying the world with its final flare-up. The sky seemed to explode with diversity of colors. Shameless pink was playfully peeking from under the cover of shaped clouds, and gradually melting into gentle purple, eventually becoming a part of dignity of navy. Distant lanterns of stars were shinning shyly, as if they were not sure if it’s already time form them to appear on the sky’s territory. I was so delighted with this evening show, that for a moment I completely forgot about everything else.

‘Tell me what you see.’ Taemin’s voice pulled me out of this hypnosis.

I averted my gaze from the sun, and glanced at the boy that was standing right next to me. Flare of sunset painted his skin with gold, sharpened his features, and built up an unusual contrast on this familiar face. And suddenly this whole pathetic beauty of nature became unimportant, compared to the simple, melancholic smile, forming in the corners of Taemin’s lips. I wanted to carry out his request, I needed to show him the beauty that surrounded us.

‘Help me to hear… no, _to see_ the sky.’ His unusual words made my chest ache, as if my heart was painfully reacting to the injustice of the world.

Without a single word, I turned back and headed to the inside of my flat in search for something. After five minutes I came back on the balcony and made Taemin sit on a chair that I prepared for him. Even though he was frowning, confused, he did not oppose to my actions, waiting for explanation. I placed his hands on the thing that I brought with me, and he touched it with his fingertips.

‘Paper? Why?’ His voice was skeptic, but not too sharp. I smiled, noticing his curiosity. He was trying to act indifferent, but ended up being intrigued. I pushed a brush into his hand.

‘Let’s paint a sky together.’ With those simple words, I pulled up my sleeves and opened a few paint tubes. I was in my element, finally.

‘What a childish idea… Does this make any sense to you?’ Even though Taemin’s words were malicious, they seemed to be only a mere attempt of downplaying my irrational behavior.

‘What color should I give you?’ I asked, ignoring his statement. I was expecting another dose of mockery, but the boy just bit his lip, clearly fighting with his own pride.

‘The sky is blue, they say…’ he started slowly, thoughtfully. ‘…but is it really true?’

Searching for an answer, I glanced at the rosary glow, painted across the horizon. One, simple word “blue” was certainly not enough to describe all those varied colors that could be seen on the evening sky.

‘No, that’s nonsense,’ I claimed lightly. ‘The sky can take every color. You should paint according to what you’re feeling.’

As I’ve spoken those words, concentration on the boy’s face became even deeper. He was giving a serious thought to the dilemma. I wasn’t even surprised. The sky was inaccessible for him. He could not touch it nor hear it. To him it must have been way more abstract and distant than to me.

‘Give me white, then,’ he eventually demanded, his voice confident. I extruded some paint on a palette, and dipped his brush in the white substance. Not waiting for his reaction, I stood right behind his back and leaned into his direction, to see our paper that was lying on a table. Even if he knew what I was about to do, he didn’t stop me, so I took it as a permission. I gently put my hand on his smaller one, suddenly feeling strangely nervous. I touched him this way so many times. Why was my heart acting so weirdly? I almost heard its loud thumping, when Taemin took the initiative, and moved our hands across the paper. A long, straight line appeared on the plain background. I knew it was just one brush of a paint, nothing special, nothing artistic. I knew it, but I was touched anyway. Touched with this silent concentration hidden in corners of the boy’s eyes, touched with a gentle smile forming on his lips. Touched with Taemin’s artwork, that he painted, even though it seemed impossible. The fact that he entered the territory of my art was just magical. Aren’t we, in fact, a perfect example of _correspondence des arts_?

‘Minho…’ Taemin unexpectedly spoke, and I suddenly realized how close our faces and lips are. ‘I’m going to do something childish,’ he claimed simply, and turned in my arms to face me.

All words stuck somewhere between my mind and my vocal cords, when Taemin slowly raised his hand and searched for my face. Finally, his brush lightly touched my cheek, probably leaving a bright, white line on my skin. I was speechlessly watching a gentle smile on boy’s lips. A smile that was brightening his whole face, making it even more beautiful than it usually was.

‘Give me more white, mister painter,’ he ordered, and I did as he told me to. I couldn’t get enough of this innocent playfulness of his actions. Abandoning his usual way of behaving, Taemin placed his whole hand on the palette. I knew what was about to happen next, but I couldn’t bring myself to oppose. The playful expression on his face was just too charming to handle.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked intrigued, as he kept on spreading the paint on my skin, using his both hands.

‘I’m painting.’

‘Is the piece of paper too ordinary for you?’

 Not receiving an answer, I followed his actions and dipped my finger in paint, then brushed it against Taemin’s nose. He froze and bit his lip. With this playful, white mark on his nose he should have been looking extremely cute. And he have. However, when he slowly, lazily touched his nose, and then let his fingers fall on his lips, I felt sudden rush of blood in my cheeks. I couldn’t understand how someone can be so attractive and so Innocent at the same time. But it was Taemin. The mysterious boy from the neighborhood. The one, who changed my world, paining it with a new color.

Clever thoughts and deep reflections suddenly disappeared, when our lips crushed in a passionate kiss. Taemin’s cold fingers touched my skin, and it started to burn, as some dangerous sensation inside of me awoke in the middle of a winter evening. Was it for this strange smile on the boy’s rosary face, or for the pink glow on the horizon, I don’t know. But it was crazy, as suddenly the meeting of our lips was not enough for me.

I slowly pulled Taemin closer and he gave in, sliding off the chair, his body leaning on my own. I don’t remember how we ended up on a balcony floor, but I realized just when I felt coldness on my back. And even so, this low temperature could not calm down the fever that possessed me. My rebellious hands sneaked under Taemin’s sweater, just to touch his velvet skin, his shaped blades, the smooth line of his spine. My lips must have felt envious, because they quickly followed the pattern of my fingers.

‘Hyung…’ purred Taemin, his voice unusual, almost strange. The sound was so low, deep and husky, I felt my body reacting to it. Sudden tightness inside of my pants made it impossible to concentrate. Taemin was turning me on, burning up my senses, as he travelled with his hands through my body, touching it, _watching it_. ‘…hyung, can you hear the city?’ he continued, tickling me with his hot breath. ‘Because I can’t hear anything but this rustle…’ His quiet words were marked in so many colors, I could use them to paint the highest skyscraper in Seoul. He was right. The sounds of everyday life disappeared, replaced by this crazy noise of blood, rushing through my veins. And only the sky stayed peaceful, now beautifully presenting its jewelry made out of stars.

The storm inside of my body slowly calmed down, along with Taemin’s breath right next to my ear. He put his arms around my neck and snuggled into my embrace, silently enjoying the warmth of my touch. As soon as the haze of lust disappeared, my common sense started to yell at me for what’ve just happened. No matter how irrational it was, I felt guilty. I was ashamed of my lack of self-control and, what’s even worse, this tightness inside of my pants. How did it happen that I changed our innocent attempt of painting into such a dirty thing?

‘Hyung…’ I heard again, but this time Taemin’s voice was strangely sensitive. He slightly pulled away and placed one hand on my cheek, gently touching the white mark on my skin. ‘You wear a fragment of the sky now,’ he claimed simply.

‘Why white?’ I asked, curious.

‘The sky is too perfect to have only one color, don’t you think? White hides inside all of the colors. That’s why,’ he explained, surprising me with the confidence of his statement. ‘You know… I like us painting together. Let’s do it again someday,’ he whispered and hugged me once again. I laughed quietly, and the stars smiled to me from the ink colored sky above us.

~*~  
  


I’ve been sitting and watching Kibum laughing for five minutes already. I wasn’t even trying to calm him down anymore, I knew it wouldn’t work anyway. Highly annoyed and at the same time incredibly embarrassed, I decided to clench my teeth and wait in silence.

‘Oh Minho… I should visit you more often. I completely forgot how funny you are!’ Key finally spoke, wiping tears from his eyes. There was this specific kind of maliciousness in his smile, and I was cursing at my own self for asking his advice. Especially in such case. I gulped loudly.

‘I’m glad to be such an entertainment to you,’ I said sarcastically. ‘But I would prefer to get to know if you’re going to help me, or you’ll just keep on laughing immaturely…’

Key rolled his eyes, but his expression became more serious, as he wanted to look like some kind of a specialist.

‘So… let me reorganize what you’ve told me first.’ He looked straight into my eyes and I nodded, glad that he finally started to cooperate. ‘Let alone the fact that I knew it will end up like this…’ he spoke slowly. ‘…you’re asking me… to tell you how to do Taemin, right?’

‘Yes. No. NO! Kibum, I thought we’re talking like adults!’ I exclaimed, now even more embarrassed with his straightforward question. ‘Why are you saying it in such way?’

‘Oh, mister sensitive!’ Key snorted and rolled his eyes. ‘From what you’ve said it’s clear what you want. You want to fuck him-‘

‘Key, please, stop it now, or I’ll leave,’ I warned him, my patience quickly disappearing, burnt by angriness.

‘Okay, okay, calm down.’ He glanced at me disapprovingly. ‘I’m going to help you, because I pity you… No, actually I’m more sympathetic towards Taemin, to be honest.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t mind giving sex advices, so…’

‘Kibum…’ I growled. The only thing that pinned me to my sit was pure desperation. I didn’t know anyone else who could help me in such case. Key seemed to be the only right person, so I had to clench my teeth and fists, and wait.

‘I see, I’ll stop now.’ He giggled once again, but then finally became a bit more serious. ‘Could you please explain what do you actually mean?’

‘I’ve already told you…’ I spoke tiredly, but when Key stayed silent, I sighed. ‘Taemin and I…’ I started slowly, looking at my own hands, just to avoid watching Kibum’s expression. ‘Something is going on between us…’

‘No way!’ Kibum cut in. ‘I would never notice…’

I decided to ignore him, concentrating on the words that I needed to get out of my chest.

‘I don’t’ mean the emotional bonds…’

‘Love! It’s called love, you dumbass!’ Kibum exclaimed. ‘Can you just stop using such weird expressions? Since we both know the truth…’

I glanced at him hesitantly, but this time his smile was encouraging. I cleared my throat.

‘So…’ I started again, at the same time hearing Taemin’s voice in my head, nagging me for using “so” at the beginning of a sentence. ‘…I don’t mean only l-love...’ I stuttered, angry at my own tongue. ‘…in the platonic sense of this word, but also the physical closeness…’ My own words made me feel like a complete idiot. ‘Since Taemin informed me about his feelings… and my own feelings as well… we’re often getting… close.’

I heard a melodramatic sigh.

‘My dear, you act as if it was you’re first time thinking about sex,’ Key spoke. ‘You’re not such an innocent boy anymore…’ He smiled playfully.

‘But Taemin is…’ I said, too fast to stop myself. ‘I mean… You know… I don’t think he’d ever done this,’ I managed to stutter out. Key glanced at me carefully.

‘I think that’s true. So what?’

‘ _So what_?!’ I’ve already told him everything, how could he still demand explanations? ‘I… I don’t want to hurt him,’ I finally confessed.

This kind of physical closeness wasn’t anything new to me. There were lots of crushes and dates in my life, some of them ended up not so innocently, I must admit. But this time was completely different. Every touch, every kiss that Taemin gave me, was waking such a deep type of desire inside of me, that I was scared I’ll end up doing something that will mess up everything. And I would never forgive myself, if I hurt Taemin in any way.

Key clapped his hands, apparently enjoying the whole situation.

‘Ah, Minho, so there is a little bit of romantic inside of you!’ he claimed in awe, and I onAce again regretted asking this freak for help. ‘But I don’t think it’s something I can help you to do… If both of you are desiring it, I’m sure Taemin won’t feel hurt!’

I gulped loudly at the statement. “Both desiring it” – I wasn’t even sure if that was true. I could only guess, judging by my boyfriend’s gestures and actions. His passionate kisses were more and more dangerous, and I was freaking out that one day they won’t be enough for the both of us. I was scared that the moment will come, and I won’t be prepared. That’s why  I decided to take an advice. Bad luck that my teacher must have been Kibum.

‘The problem is, that I’ve never done this with another guy!’ I finally shouted, angry. Key’s eyes flashed with understanding. He smiled at me brightly.

‘That’s exactly what I thought,’ he spoke cheerfully.

‘You knew what I meant and still made me suffer so much?!’ I was so outraged. My friend, however, didn’t seem to care. He stood up and placed his hand on my arm.

‘Calm down, my frog-eyed friend. I’m here to help you in this serious case, don’t you know?’ he spoke gently and I glared at him, waiting for another malicious comment. ‘I’ll explain you the whole theory,’ he promised cheerfully. ‘But if you want the practical exercises, I recommend you to ask Jonghyun…’ he added, giggling,  and quickly ran away from my killing gaze.


	12. Chapter 10

‘Eroticism is a specific area of art, that has been fascinating people from ages. Its’ daring and alluring features fire up imagination of viewers.’

I shifted on my chair, trying hard not to show how much discomfort the topic was causing. I had to admit that the rector of The Arts’ Academy excelled his self this time, deciding to organize a trip with a risky main title – “Eroticism in art – workshops for young artists”. A few months ago I would have probably not pay much attention to such topic. But now, considering all these dangerous thoughts in my mind and wild imaginations that haunted me at nights, eroticism became certainly not safe topic for me.

The fact that Taemin was sitting right next to me, made my situation even worse. I was feeling almost as terrible, as that night in the opera house. The only things I could concentrate on was the warmth of his arm, the shape of his hands placed on his laps, the smooth line of his pale neck, partly hidden behind the collar.

Even though I was unbelievably absorbed in gaping at my boyfriend, the loud voice of professor kept on attacking my ears, craving inappropriate pictures in my brain. I felt so dirty, unable to stop myself from creating all those fantasies. The calmness and stillness of Taemin’s face wasn’t helping at all. I was gaping at him like an idiot, closely watching even the slightest movements and the way his long hair kept escaping from behind his ear, fascinated with his every gesture. But he was silent and thoughtful, unaware of the actual state of my mind. With a little dose of desperation I started searching for any sign of emotions on his face. I was hoping to see a glimpse of the same fever that have possessed me, just to justify myself that I’m not the only dirty minded person in this room. But it was Taemin. If he didn’t want to express his thoughts, there was no way to read anything from his half-closed eyelids or the shape of his slightly parted lips. He was a real master in the art of hiding his emotions. I could only guess what he’s thinking about. And that drove me crazy. I felt guilty. Not worth even touching him.

‘The way of dealing with the topic of human sexuality has been changing through ages, transforming, adapting to the current point of view. Today you are the ones to face this challenge,’ the lecturer said. The rustle of whispers filled the room. ‘Calm down and stop yourself from dirty ideas. We’re talking about eroticism, not pornography. And now, divide into groups, please. One for each type of art.’

After these words there were a few moments of moving chairs and changing sits. I glanced at Taemin, but he was already fading somewhere in the crowd of people, leaded by Onew straight to the table of musicians. I sighed heavily, not pleased with such turn of events. You can call me jealous, but I really didn’t like the idea of these two being together without me.

I found the table of my group and sat behind it.

‘Your first task is to choose works of art that, in your opinion, express the eroticism in the best way,’ the lecturer ordered. I scratched my head, confused. ‘Pay attention to ages, conventions and technics.’

I looked around the room. Students were discussing, arguing, consulting. Some of them decided to search for some ideas on the Internet, hiding their mobiles under the table. My eyes finally found Taemin and Onew, sitting arm to arm and head to head, lively discussing something. I was jealous, of course. But besides that, I found myself extremely curious, too. What had my dear violinist to say in the topic of eroticism? I wanted to know what hides behind his unreadable expression, but the only chance to find out seemed to be impossible to catch. I averted my gaze from Taemin and glanced at my table, frustrated. Curves of baroque, mysticism of romanticism, licentiousness of modern art – hundreds of paintings were blinking in my brain, but any of them didn’t seem to be fitting. Rubens was too crude, Schulz too mad. Nothing could express this tremendous feeling that possessed me each time Taemin made a movement or took a breath.

I stole another longing glance at the table of musicians. Taemin was holding a violin and slightly touching its wooden surface while listening to something that Onew was saying. I couldn’t just sit and watch. I needed to find answers for my questions. I needed to know what piece would Taemin choose as his definition of eroticism.

I secretly stood up, doing my best to avoid getting caught by the lecturer. As he turned back to me, talking with a guy from the table of poets, I sneaked through the room and stopped as soon as I found a hiding spot behind a huge column, right next to the corner of musicians. Taemin was enthusiastically explaining something to his older friend. Onew was listening to his words with a blush on his cheeks, appearing to be way more innocent than my boyfriend. Taemin frowned his eyebrows, unsatisfied with the lack of understanding.

‘Hyung, have you ever had erotic dreams?’ he asked. I inhaled so loudly, that both of them heard me.

‘Minho, what are you doing here? Your table is…’

‘Yes, I know,’ I cut the hyung off, my eyes fixed on Taemin’s face, now painted in unwanted shade of pink. ‘I-I wanted to check how you’re doing, that’s it…’ I mumbled, unable to come up with a better excuse.

‘Are you lost, sir?’ – spoke the voice behind my back. The lecturer was judging me from behind his glasses. ‘Have you already chosen your examples?’ he asked, still burning a hole in my head with his eyes. I gulped nervously.

‘I… I mean… I’m not sure…’

‘I have,’ Taemin spoke, saving my lazy ass from troubles. Everyone was looking at us, while the lecturer approached my boyfriend.

‘Really? And can you share your point of view with us?’ His voice rang maliciously in my ears, but Taemin didn’t step back. He straightened his back and proudly raised his head, clearly determined to prove is rights.

‘Vivaldi. Winter,’ he said. Eyes of the lecturer flashed with curiosity.

‘Winter?’

‘Allegro non molto,’ added Taemin, confidently. The teacher seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, as if not sure if he should ask more questions. Eventually, he fixed his glasses and hemmed.

‘Interesting…’ he muttered and left to investigate another student.  
  


~*~

‘Integration game? Seriously?’ I whined as I watched students taking their places on the floor, forming a big circle. ‘It’s good for elementary school, not…’

‘Stop grumbling’ Taemin nagged. He was already sitting on the floor next to Onew, both of them whispering to each other. The jealousy was burning inside of me again.

‘I think it’s gonna be fun,’ spoke hyung, smiling as brightly as always. I sighed.

Having no other choice, I joined the game. Rules were simple. Everyone had a signed piece of paper and had to pass it to a neighbor who’s task was to write his opinion on the colleague. The game was supposed to inform us about our good and bad points. Theoretically. However, it was a pure nonsense to me. I didn’t know most of the students and didn’t expect them to be friendly towards me. And I was right. When my piece of paper was back in my hands, it was still almost empty. Not surprising at all. There were a few neutral words such as _nice_ or _kind_. I received some insults as well. But what drew my attention was the mysterious word written in the center of the paper.

‘ _Imbécil_ e?’ I read, scratching my head, confused. I suspiciously glanced at Taemin. ‘Are you cursing me in French again?’ I asked accusingly, receiving a devilish smile as a reply. I leaned over his shoulder to see his paper. It was much more interesting than mine. I felt sudden rush of anger when I realized that most of the words are insults about both, Taemin’s sexuality and blindness. I quickly pulled the paper out of the boy’s hands. ‘Kind, friendly, talented, handsome…’ I made up and Taemin raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re more popular than me,’ I stated, trying to sound enthusiastically.

‘And what did you write?’ he asked, ignoring my fooling around. I felt embarrassed, hearing this simple question. The truth was that I didn’t manage to describe Taemin in just a few words. It was impossible. At least for me.

‘That you’re a great musician,’ I answered causing a disappointed expression on his face. He probably wanted to comment it somehow, but he didn’t manage to.

‘How about a little talent show?’ spoke an unfamiliar voice, cutting off the noise of the room.

A guy that the voice belonged to stood up and walked to the center, a mean smile plastered to his face. His eyes stopped on Taemin and I could sense something suspicious in this stare.

‘Lee Taemin,’ he said and students started to whisper. ‘The son of Lee Inhye. Such a famous person in our school. It’s an honor,’ he continued, sarcastically.

I knew he planned on doing something not very nice and just couldn’t figure out his intentions. I looked around, but unluckily all the teachers had left the room. Taemin’s expression was impossible to read, but I noticed how he tensed up, being the center of attention.

‘How is it possible that we still didn’t have a chance to experience your famous musical skills?’ The mean-looking guy spoke again. I wanted to do something, to somehow tell Taemin that he doesn’t have to listen to this idiot. But as soon as I saw the familiar sign of determination on his face, I knew there’s no use in trying to convince him to ignore the situation. Taemin wasn’t the type to run away. He wanted to fight for his honor.

The boy stood up and I could hear the whispers getting louder. Someone brought the violin and Taemin placed it gently under his chin. It was fascinating, the way he was able to calm down thanks to the familiar touch of his wooden friend. His expression changed to less nervous, but he still emanated with warriorhood, as if he wanted to face the challenge with as much proudness as he could.

Fully concentrated, he started to play a passionate melody. His skillful moves were creating perfect sounds and he didn’t let himself to do any mistake. My heart bumped faster in my chest, the moment I realized what Taemin was playing. The piece of Vivaldi, the same one the boy had chosen as his definition of eroticism. I still didn’t know why he decided on this particular song. It was dynamic and full of expression, but I couldn’t understand how Taemin perceived it as sexual. On the other hand… watching his slender fingers, wildly dancing with strings or his slim body moving along with the music… something like that was certainly able to fill my mind with dangerous visions.

I looked around the room. Some people were listening carefully, enchanted with the boy’s performance. But there were those whispering idiots, too…

‘Faggot!’ One of them shouted. And that was enough.

I stood up and glared at them furiously. Taemin, however, didn’t stop his playing. Onew hyung gently touched my hand, silently begging me to calm down. I clenched my fists, angry, but that was all I could do at the moment. Not because of Onew or because of my common sense. The real reason was Taemin’s expression. You would think that because of the lack of eye contact our communication was incomplete. Nothing further from the truth. If Taemin allowed me, I could read his face like a book. Usually he was acting coldly and indifferently, but each single change in his expression was a sign for me, a hidden message that I learned to understand. And this time was the same. It took me one glance at his pursed lips and frowned eyebrows to know, that he aimed to play this song until the very end, ignoring all of the insults that he received. It was a fight for his honor. I didn’t have rights to interfere. That’s why I didn’t do anything, still watching his tiny body dancing to the music of his violin. His proud and brave attitude made him much more worthy than any of those idiots around us. At least in my eyes.

Suddenly the idiot that earlier was calling Taemin names, now approached the boy and jokingly patted his butt.

‘I’ll kill him…’ I growled and headed towards him. At this very moment Taemin perfectly finished his song and intentionally flicked his bow in the air, almost hitting face of the idiot that touched him. Then he dropped the violin and stormed out of the room.

I was torn between the need to follow him and the obligation to fight this motherfucker that dared touching my boyfriend. Eventually, I decided on the second option. I was so enraged that after few seconds people had to hold me, so that I wouldn’t be able to kill the guy.

‘Okay, FINE.’ I shouted, finally letting him go. The room became deadly silent as I kicked this idiot for the last time and quickly left, before anyone managed to stop me.

~*~

‘Are you sleeping?’ I asked, welcomed by silence and darkness of our room. As expected, no reply. I sighed quietly and approached Taemin’s bed. The boy was lying under the blanket, covered from toes to nose, not in a mood for talking. When I sat on the edge of his bed, he turned back to me.

‘Do you know you shouldn’t go to sleep with wet hair?’ I spoke again, realizing that he must have been straight out of shower, because his pillow was already a bit damp. My words managed to provoke him.

‘What a specialist…’ he snorted sarcastically, but turned on his bed, this time facing the ceiling.

‘I think in this case even Soonkyu noona would agree with me,’ I stated lightly.

After these words there was a long moment of silence. I came to conclusion that Taemin really doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I should give up and try tomorrow? I slightly shifted on his bed. A low, unhappy growl came as a reply.

‘Don’t you dare’ Taemin spoke, apparently reading my mind once again. ‘Haven’t I told you that I prefer you being right next to me?’ His demanding words made me burst out laughing. Taemin was the only person in this world who managed to be so bossy and so cute at the same time.

Without a single word I placed myself on the edge of his bed, watching his pouty expression. He lied still for a while, and then turned to face me. Even though the room was dark, I could still notice the details of his beautiful face.

‘Why you didn’t tell me what was really written on my paper?’ he asked suddenly, exposing my little lie.

‘I didn’t want you to listen to this nonsense,’ I answered quietly, lightly caressing his check with the palm of my hand.

‘You should know that I don’t care about the opinion of these idiots,’ he said, firmly. ‘But I do care about your thoughts about me. A lot.’ For a brief moment I thought I just made up these words in my mind, but the bright red color of Taemin’s cheeks proved that he really spoke them out loud. ‘Is my music really the only thing you like about me?’ he asked, trying hard to sound as indifferent as possible. He surprised me. I didn’t know he cared about my opinion so much.

‘It’s your music that made me interested in you,’ I answered, fixing my position, because I was lying on the edge of the bed and could easily fall to the floor. Taemin frowned his eyebrows, but didn’t say a word. He was waiting for explanations. ‘You know we’re neighbors…’ I continued hesitantly. ‘To be honest, I know you much longer than you know me… Ah, you played so beautifully each evening…’ I was watching Taemin’s face, as it changed in sudden realization.

‘You pervert!’ he exclaimed, reaching with clenched fist to hit me. I quickly held his wrist to stop him. He made an unhappy expression and tried to release his own hand. Our little fight ended up on the edge of the bed and suddenly we both fell to the floor. I glanced at Taemin, expecting him to quickly stand up and grumpily go back to his bed. But he didn’t move.

‘Minho…’ I heard a silent whisper. I caressed Taemin’s head, my fingers getting lost in his damp, thick hair. ‘Minho, sing to me,’ he demanded, snuggling into my chest.

I inhaled loudly, surprised. I wanted to turn down his request, the same way as I did many days ago, during our night call. But before I managed to blurt out any excuse, Taemin raised his head just to let me see his begging expression. He wasn’t as hard and indifferent as moments ago. Rather than that, he seemed to be lost. I hugged him tightly to my chest and hummed some unknown melody that was supposed to calm him down. 

I could only hope that my low voice sounds comforting and tender, even though my vocal talent did not exist. Taemin’s hand was travelling through my chest, as he silently listened to my improvised song. I could feel the warmth and the shape of his body through the loose, thin, white shirt in which he tended to sleep. My stupid heart was racing, unable to ignore the closeness of the boy. Taemin made a slight movement and I noticed something shiny on his face.

‘Taemin, are you crying?’ I stopped singing and asked softly. The boy sniffled.

‘Yes, I am. Because I just can’t stand your miserable singing,’ he answered, his voice cracking. I whipped a single tear from his cheek and kissed his forehead.

‘Don’t worry about those idiots. They’re not worth it.’

‘They can call me names, I don’t care about it,’ he spoke quietly. ‘But they ridiculed my music, and that is something I cannot forgive. How can they be so cruel?’

I didn’t know the answer, so I raised a bit above the floor and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

‘Do you know that I love you?’ I asked. Taemin did not answer, his hand still travelling across my chest. ‘Would you tell me something?’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘What you and Onew hyung were whispering about?’ I didn’t want to destroy the moment, but I just needed to know. Much to my surprise, Taemin smiled.

‘It’s our little conspiracy. Hyung says you’re jealous,’ he claimed, puffing up his cheeks. I glanced at him, shocked, and then burst out laughing.

‘You wanted to make me _more_ jealous?’ I asked in disbelief and Taemin blushed.

‘Maybe.’

‘You shouldn’t do this to me.’ I ruffled his damp hair. He was so pretty and cute with this pouty expression. My hand slid down on his neck, as I reached for another kiss. This time Taemin didn’t let me pull away, passionately attacking my lips. My fingers entangled in his hair and a few seconds later travelled down, across his back. Suddenly he pulled away, and hovered above me, his hands on both sides of my head. His long hair tickled my face.

‘Say it again,’ he demanded.

‘Say what?’

‘Tell me how do you feel about me.’

‘I love you, Tae,’ I confessed tenderly. Taemin smiled in such a bright and cheerful way, that I sat up and leaned my forehead on his.

‘I love you, too, Min…’ he replied quietly, shyly. My heart danced inside of my chest, as these were the most beautiful words I have ever heard. I leaned closer, but instead of lips, I kissed his jawline. The boy tilted his head, exposing his neck for me. But, as impatient as he was, he quickly found my face with his hands and kissed me once again.

Listening to the whisper of my instinct, I stood up, carrying the boy with me, as his legs entangled my hips. I put Taemin on the bed, kissing his neck and quickly unbuttoning his shirt. The view on his bare chest reminded me of that awkward situation in changing room that took its place a long time ago.

‘How could I…’ I muttered, recalling my unreasonable thoughts on how my body react to Taemin’s closeness.

‘Hm?’

‘How could I not realize that you’re everything to me…’ I finished my sentence and Taemin smiled playfully.

‘I’ve already told you that you’re dumb,’ he commented, as his hands waved in the air, searching for buttons of my shirt. I quickly started unbuttoning it, but Taemin frowned. ‘No. I want to do it myself,’ he stated stubbornly. I smiled gently and helped him to reach the buttons. He got up on his knees and his hands slowly travelled down my shirt.

‘Have you ever had erotic dreams? If yes, tell me about them,’ I suddenly spoke. Taemin froze in the middle of the movement.

‘Shut up,’ he growled, blushing once again. He wasn’t as embarrassed as Onew, but I’ve noticed him biting his lip nervously.

‘So you have. Ah, that’s what I thought…’ I said lightly and Taemin frowned.

‘On what basis?’ he asked, trying to sound indifferent.

‘You have such a sexy boyfriend… well, it’s natural to dream about him,’ I answered playfully. Taemin snorted.

‘Don’t you think too high of yourself?’ He was so cutely annoyed that I just had to kiss him once again.

‘Am I the guest of your dreams?’ I whispered to his ear and he shivered.

‘Stupid…’

He inhaled, feeling my hands on his tights, traveling upwards, controlled by a mysterious power, that was leading me to intimate parts of Taemin’s body. Something was waking up within me, an unknown melody that pulsated in most private region of mine.

I wanted to be confident and collected so that Taemin could feel comfortable. However, in my head everything looked more simply than in reality. I took the rest of my clothes off. I could only hope that my hands aren’t shaking badly enough for Taemin to feel it on his body. I was trying to quickly recall any of Key’s instructions, but all of them suddenly faded away, leaving me alone with the help of my instincts only.

My fingers found their way to the hem of cloth, but this barrier did not stop them. My hands tenderly and carefully explored the new region of Taemin’s body. My heart was bumping inside of my chest, as I took the rest of the boy’s clothes off. I looked at his face, searching for any sign of protest. He raised his hand and gestured to come closer. I did as he ordered me. He stayed silent for a while, as embarrassed as possible. I was expecting another love confession, but Taemin’s expression hardened.

‘If you screw this up, you’re dead,’ he threatened me shakily, trying to be as strong as he always was. I caressed his cheek.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ I whispered and closed my eyes, drowning in another kiss.

I gently touched Taemin’s face, exploring its sculpture with just the tips of my fingers. I wanted to _look at him_ the way _he looked at me_ , by the mix of touching, listening and tasting. With my eyes still closed, I travelled downwards, lightly caressing the two sensitive points on Taemin’s chest. The quiet moan that I received as a response made me fall for the boy even more. I brushed my lips against his stomach, tasting the soft skin. At the same time my hands were busy discovering the beauty of the boy’s ribs. Finally, after examining the curves of Taemin’s hips, I reached the destination of my sinful travel.

I gently stroked the boy's member and he shivered. Never before had I seen him so vulnerable, as if he finally let all his barriers go down. I felt honored to be the person that he decided to open up for.

He obviously tried not to scream, when my lubricated fingers found their way to his inside. He clenched his fists on the fabric of sheet. Seeing his painful expression I felt so guilty, that I stopped my movements for a moment, giving him some time to relax.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

‘Minho, you’re just taking my virginity in the hotel room during the school trip. Is that okay?’ he answered weakly.

‘If you don’t want…’

‘Minho…’ He bit his lip nervously. ‘Do it.’ I heard a quiet, shy and beautiful request. ‘Do it as perfectly as it was in my dreams…’

I laughed quietly and brushed my lips against his. In response he took my hands and placed it on his own body. I would never expect his smile to be as flirty as at this particular moment.

‘Are you trying to seduce me, dear?’ I asked with amusement. He did not answer, sliding my hands lower on his body. I couldn’t ignore his actions. It was getting hotter and hotter with every millimeter of pale, heated skin under my fingers. The pulsing melody of my body was louder now, whirring in my ears, hurrying me up. When Taemin bit his lip, suggestively, and at the same time my hands reached the point between his spread legs, the lust took over me and I finally did what we both desired for so long.

Taemin whined painfully as I got lost in the labyrinth of our unified bodies, dancing to the rhythm of our hearts and breathes. Everything disappeared, the world became a blurred mosaic of pleasure. The only things existing were lips, hands, skin. Mouth became a little traitors, informing the world about the overwhelming experience, as any of us couldn’t stop himself from letting dirty noises out. Our kisses and thrusts made eternity out of each second. We were creating together the artwork of our lives, painting the silence around us with the colorful sounds of pleasure. Ecstatically parted lips, skin shining with sweat, chest moving with every breathe – these were the things I could see clearly. The real colors of the world, however, appeared to be much less enchanting than the ones I was experiencing on the inside, as the part of me was drowning in Taemin’s hot body, enlacing our existences. The boy kept on alluring me with his half-closed eyes, curious fingertips and erotic moans, that he couldn’t stop from letting out. I didn’t want him to experience it less enjoyable than me, even though his eyes couldn’t see my loving stare. That’s why I kept on marking his skin and lips with devotion and passion, so that he could feel the state of my heart. And he was responding, moving his hips to the rhythm of alluring melody that was played by our harmonizing voices. The drumrolls of our hearts where beating with every thrust, finally reaching the point of _aria di bravura_ , that led us to a sweet release. In this unbelievable moment I wasn’t even sure about the reality, as the barriers between colors and sounds, between taste and touch disappeared, and everything unified as a one perfect _correspondance des arts_ , most beautiful the world had ever seen.

If you asked me, what was he most memorable view of that evening, I would certainly describe the blushed, tired and happy face of Taemin, that I was honored to see a few seconds after we both fell on the pillow, lying next to each other, having time of catching breathes. The colorful melody of our feelings seemed to still ring in the air of dark room. Taemin’s long, ruffled hair was spread on his pillow and I just couldn’t bring myself to stop staring at the radiant smile he gave me. He was my little miracle, so unbelievable and unrealistic, and still lying by my side, filling the air with his quiet breathing. I slid my hand across his arm and then interlaced our fingers.

‘Taemin?’

‘Hm?’ His sleepy voice was so cute.

‘What color was that?’ I asked, my finger drawing invisible circles on the skin of his hand.

‘None,’ he replied and I found myself being disappointed.

‘Really?’ I didn’t want to accept such answer. Taemin frowned his eyebrows, thoughtfully.

‘No particular color…’ he repeated slowly. ‘Or all of them at once.’ I smiled brightly, hearing this statement.

‘Are you trying to say that having sex with me has the color of the rainbow?’ I said jokingly, receiving a punch in the stomach as an answer.

‘Nonsense, as always…’ he commented with a sleepy voice and after these words became silent, quickly falling asleep. I watched his expression getting calmer and the hold of his hand getting weaker. Even though he fell asleep, the tiny sign of smile did not disappear from his face, still hiding somewhere in the corners of his lips. I gently touched his hair and then kissed him lightly.

Suddenly the door behind me creaked and Onew hyung came in, almost tripping in the darkness of the room. I glanced at him and gestured that he should be quiet, because Taemin was sleeping. Hyung was gaping at us for a moment, his eyes moving from the clothes lying on the floor to the bed that was a mess. He unconsciously opened his mouth.

‘What are you two… Don’t say that…’ he murmured and I just nodded in reply. His eyes widened and for a few moments he was too shocked to say anything. Eventually, he averted his gaze and headed straight to his bed.

‘If I wanted nasty things in my room, I would ask Heechul for a companion…’ he said miserably. ‘I’m so naïve… You’re all the same,’ he said to himself, rather than me. ‘I will stay with my chickens. That’s the only save relationship.’ After this words he hid under his blanket and didn’t speak for the rest of the evening. I was barely able to stop myself from laughing at his behavior. And even though I felt sympathetic and even a bit guilty towards hyung, it took me just one glance at my sleeping boy, to once again forget about the rest of the world.


	13. Chapter 11

‘Mhmmmm…’ I muttered, concentrated on playing with a strand of hair. Reflexes of sunlight kept on painting it with extraordinary colors. The sunshine was playing with long locks, colors changing like in a kaleidoscope. One moment the hair was copper-colored and in the matter of seconds it transformed into golden brown. I was watching this colorful and shiny mosaic of flares and shadows with pure amusement. I pulled the strand of hair closer to the window, trying to catch more of the magical sun beams.

‘Minho, are you listening to me?’ I heard annoyed voice of the owner of colorful hair. I looked at Taemin blankly, realizing that I have no idea what he’s been talking about. Shiny strands of his hair were still catching my attention, distracting me. After a long moment of silence, Taemin sighed. ‘Tomorrow is the day of our performance. Why can’t you just get down to work for once?’ he asked, annoyed.

‘Minnie, we’ve been practicing hard enough. I’m sure that everyone will be delighted,’ I answered, reaching with my hand to lazily touch his cheek. He waved his bow in the air and hit my arm, frowning.

‘Don’t fool around!’ he snapped. ‘And don’t call me like that…’ He pouted, almost too cute to handle.

‘Why I’m still forbidden from calling you like this?’ I asked, fake angriness ringing in my voice. ‘If Jonghyun can, why your boyfriend can’t?’ Taemin was getting more and more embarrassed with each word I said.

‘Because you’re my boyfriend,’ he answered, protectively crossing his arms on his chest. I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t expect such answer.

‘That’s unfair…’ I muttered.

‘Oh, you’re such a child! I always have to explain everything to you!’ he burst out and I smiled, because the whole conversation was childish from the start. ‘I don’t want you to call me the same way Jonghyun hyung calls me,’ he stated.

‘Why?’ I kept on asking. Teasing Taemin became one of my favorite things to do.

‘Because he treats me like a little child. Like a younger brother, or son even. That’s why he calls me… Minnie.’ The last word was said with disgust.

‘And how should I treat you then?’ I asked, before he managed to change the subject. A rosy shade of pink colored his cheeks with embarrassment.

‘You should already know such things…’ he mumbled, lowering his head to hide his face.

‘But I’m too stupid, you said it yourself…’ I said, lightly. I heard a snort from behind the curtain of his hair.

‘I’m a man and you should treat me like a man,’ he finally said, causing the rush of hotness inside of my body. I closed my eyes and leaned to him, searching for his lips, but I didn’t manage to kiss him, because he suddenly stood up and escaped. I glanced at him, disappointed, as he leaned on a window sill. I couldn’t see his face, only the golden, shinning hair.

‘Can you hear it?’ he asked thoughtfully. I sighed silently and approached him.

‘Here what? Are we listening to the city again?’ I spoke, leaning next to him and watching the concentration painted on his face. I couldn’t help his extraordinary behavior, unable to perceive the world the same way he did. The boy shook his head and smiled lightly, reaching for my hand. He turned back from the window and leaded me through his apartment.

Although I was a frequent guest in his flat, my visits usually consisted in penetrating Taemin’s room. However, this time I was leaded to another room, which appeared to be a living room. It was as clean and well-organized as Taemin’s bedroom. The room was furnished with elegant leather armchairs and a tiny coffee table. Instead of television there was a huge stereo set, with speakers in each corner of the room. Hundreds of CDs and vinyls were decorating shelfs and filling cabinets, all of it being a private collection of my little music lover. He leaded me through the room, to the glass door of a balcony. I felt a winter wind on my face and shivered. Taemin didn’t look as if he was cold, though.

‘Can you hear it now?’ he asked quietly, and I tried hard to concentrate, so that I would understand what he means. Unavailingly. I didn’t manage to find anything special in distant sound of the city, that could be heard from behind the barrier of trees in the park. ‘Can you hear this enchanting silence? It’s the sound of the winter,’ Taemin spoke, his whispering voice full of admiration. I rolled my eyes, heaving to deal with his favorite topic again, but stayed silent. The view from Taemin’s balcony was completely different, than from my own. Instead of rooftops of buildings and mosaic of streets, there was a beautiful landscape of the park, flooded with snow. I fixed my eyes on the trees. Their crooked, old branches were painted in white.

I tried once again, searching for something more than the cold wind that hit my ears. The layer of snow seemed to be absorbing all of the sounds, that the civilization tried to force through the natural barrier. There was only a faint trace of the city that could be heard, composed with the whispers of the trees. I frowned my eyebrows, deeply concentrated. How did Taemin call it?

‘…enchanting silence,’ I spoke, not quite aware that I do it out loud. The boy by my side smiled brightly.

‘So now you can hear it?’ he asked, gripping my hand tighter. I let go of his hand and stood behind him, placing my arms around his body and hands on his hips. ‘Can you hear my winter?’ he kept on whispering, as I put my chin on his arm, my eyes watching white snowflakes, falling from the sky and painting the hair of the boy that I was hugging. The sun appeared between the clouds and started a shiny show of flares on the layer of snow in the park. Somewhere not so far away, there could be heard a sound of snow falling from a branch of a tree, landing lightly on the ground. It was so soft, so fitting to the magical silence around us.

‘It’s beautiful, your winter,’ I admitted, watching the delicate smile forming on his lips. ‘And it will always remind me of you, no one else.’ I rubbed his hand with my thumb. ‘Can you tell me why you chose Vivaldi’s “Winter” during workshops?’ I asked, still curious about his point of view. I wanted to know his interpretation. The boy tilted his head. I could see that he’s preparing to tease me.

‘Minho, I doubt you’ll ever understand the essence of winter,’ he stated, at the same time interlacing our fingers. ‘For you it’s only the whiteness of snow and the coldness of wind or ice.’ I was listening to him, fascinated, once again learning his way of perceiving the world. ‘For me winter means something a lot more diversified. Winter is an essence of contradiction. From coldness of mornings, to hotness of evenings, spent by the chimney. From frost of the skin, to warmth of each breath. Winter is beautiful with its contrasts, with the imperfect impetuousness, that make your body shake and shiver. That’s why I chose it as my definition of eroticism.’ He smiled, satisfied with his explanation. I tried to find a proper words to answer, but the deepness of his point of view was just too much.

Suddenly, a cold wind ruffled our hair and the boy in my arms shivered.

‘You’ll catch a cold. It’s time to go back,’ I spoke firmly and he nodded, following my steps. As soon as we came back to the living room, I fixed my eyes on something that I didn’t previously notice.

‘A piano?’ I spoke, and the question made Taemin blush, as he became embarrassed.

‘I won’t play for you,’ he stated, trying to sound as harsh as possible. I smiled viciously and sat behind the piano. I started to purposely hit random keys, creating a chaotic and noisy music. After a few seconds I felt a pain in my back, as Taemin hit me. I stopped playing and glanced at my boyfriend. ‘Get out of my way, you idiot,’ he growled, and when I did not react, he sat next to me and sighed. He placed his fingers on the keyboard.

‘You changed your mind? Not jittering anymore?’ I asked and he snorted.

‘From what you presented, your skills are so poor that there's no use in being nervous,' he said and, not giving me a chance to answer, he started playing.

Slender fingers danced across the keyboard, creating a soft, calm melody that seemed to be floating like a river and filling the whole room with its beauty. Taemin's face was concentrated, as he was doing his best to recall a forgotten piece that he hadn't been practicing for a long time, so that it could enchant the world once again. Apart from the few false notes that I managed to hear, his piano playing was almost as impressive as the violin one. I could sit there like that for the whole eternity, watching his delicate face, feeling the warmth of his arm, listening to his soul, locked in the music...

'...you didn't like it.' I heard a pouty voice, that woke me up. The song was already finished and Taemin, not receiving any response, made his own conclusion. I smiled, seeing how much he cares about my opinion. I tenderly tucked his hair behind his ear. Taemin put his hand on mine, feeling its warmth on his cheek. I leaned and kissed his forehead.

'Life is not fair,' I said and he raised his eyebrows in question. 'My boyfriend is good at everything. And all I can do is using a brush,' I explained, pouting. Taemin's face brightened up with an evil smile.

'That's why you need me.' He pulled me closer, his lips searching for mine. I drowned in his soft kiss, my hands entangled in the shiny strides of his hair. Taemin put his hands around my neck, his fingers tickling my skin. I purred with amusement and kissed him deeper.

'Not impressive...' said an unexpected voice. I raised my eyes and met face of Jonghyun, smiling in amusement. Taemin quickly pushed me away.

'Hyung, what are you doing here?' he asked, blushing. I rolled my eyes. Even though it's been a few months since we became a couple, he was still embarrassed whenever his hyung saw us in such situation. Which means often.

'I'm disappointed,' Jonghyun said, ignoring his friend's question. 'The last time I visited you, the view was way more interesting...’

I gulped, recalling the scene he must have seen when he unexpectedly entered Taemin's bedroom last week.

'Are you sure this pervert should be allowed to have a key to your apartment, Tae?' I asked and Jonghyun opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't get a chance.

'Hyung, since you're already here, let's make use of your presence,' spoke Taemin firmly. His friend raised eyebrows, confused. '... sing for us.' These three words made Jonghyun's expression soften. The older man ruffled Taemin's hair and approached us, gesturing for me to move. I quickly made a space for him behind the piano, feeling a bit out of place in this little musical worlds of my friends.

Jonghyun sat next to Taemin and started playing. After a few notes the younger joined him. Together they filled the room with music. I never expected Jonghyun to be this good at singing. I was finally able to understand why Taemin loved to listen to his hyung's voice when he couldn't sleep. It was soft and tender, skillfully singing beautiful lyrics of a love ballad. As I watched the both of them, I noticed some sort of similarity on their faces. It wasn't surprising that Taemin loved music so much, since he had Jonghyun as a teacher. I was thankful. Thankful for care, thankful for brotherly love that he's been giving to Taemin for so many years. And I knew that wasn't the only thing that I should thank him for.

The song came to the end and Taemin leaned on Jonghyun's shoulder, sighing.

'It's been a long time since you last sang for me... ' he spoke quietly.

' It's not my duty anymore.' He glanced at me. 'Shouldn't it be Minho who sing for you now?'

'He's a miserable vocalist, really.' Taemin's voice was harsh but he could not hide a faint blush, recalling in what circumstances I sang for him.

'I tried, at least.' I pouted at my boyfriend's critics. 'You didn't.'

'Let's not talk about it,' Taemin snapped. Jonghyun smiled at him sympathetically.

'Minnie thinks his voice is not good enough to show it to other people,' he explained, ignoring younger boy's angry face. 'Even though I tell him he can sign, he won't believe me...'

'I'd rather hear it by myself,' I said to Taemin. I was expecting protests, but instead of it I saw hesitation.

'Maybe one day... ' he spoke, biting his lip.

'One day?' I insisted and he threw his hands in the air.

'Fine...' he snapped, irritated. 'After The Arts Unity Day I'll sing for you, Minho,' he promised shyly. I felt a rush of happiness and satisfaction, and smiled so brightly that Jonghyun rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, I know I interrupt your romantic little conversation...' he said jokingly '... But I didn't came here without a reason.' His expression became more serious, as his eyes landed on Taemin. 'Minnie, do you know you should at least answer your mother’s calls?' he asked cautiously and Taemin frowned, suddenly angry. I felt an unpleasant tension in the air. I hated it how the topic of Taemin's mother was always able to ruin his mood.

'I know exactly what she wants to tell me and I do not want to listen to it.' His voice was cold, but it didn't make Jonghyun less stubborn.

'Minnie, I know it may be hard for you, but I won't leave until you at least call her to say that you're fine. She's worrying about you.'

'WORRYING, of course. She's probably planning another banquet and wants to drag me into her business.' Taemin was angry, but he stood up and headed to his room. 'I'll be back soon. It won't be a long call,' he said as he disappeared behind the door.

'Is she really worried?' I asked Jonghyun as soon as we were left together. He exhaled loudly.

'I have no idea. It's hard to guess what's wrong this time. This woman is erratic,' he admitted thoughtfully.

I glanced at the door, hearing Taemin's voice. It was louder and more emotional than usually. I wanted to run across the corridor, pull the phone out of his hand and tell this cruel woman to leave him alone. But I was stopped by Jonghyun's eyes.

'Calm down,' he spoke lightly. 'If there is anyone who is able to deal with her, it's Taemin. If he does well, she'll leave him alone for another month or so.'

'Jonghyun...' I started and he raised his eyebrows, noticing hesitation in my voice. 'Thank you.' I mentally slapped myself for being so awkward.

'Me? For what?' he was honestly surprised.

'For Taemin,' I answered simply. His expression changed as he realized what I meant. He smiled lightly.

'Well, I should thank you, too, then,' he said. 'In just a few months you managed to do something that I couldn't achieve for many years.' I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just kept on looking at him blankly. He glanced at the door and then came back to me. ‘You changed Taemin. For better, of course. I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but before he met you he was even more harsh and difficult than now.’ He smiled somehow tenderly. ‘Sometimes I was asking my own self how am I even able to deal with him. But I love this kid, he’s like family to me. That’s why I’m so happy that he finally found what he was looking for and what I could not give him. Love, Minho. You gifted him with something that his mother nor anyone else couldn’t offer him in the way he needed it.’

For a few moments I was too touched with his words to answer. Never before had I expected to talk with Jonghyun like this. He seemed to be able to read my thoughts by just looking at my face and it felt a bit awkward. Even so, I decided to ask just one more question.

‘Why me? Why you chose me to take care of your friend?’

‘You won’t believe me if I say it was a shot in the dark, will you?’ he asked jokingly and I rolled my eyes. ‘Okay, I admit I had made a little research about you before we met. The fact that you live close to each other is very comfortable. Additionally, your lack of many friends and unsociable nature made me sure that you’ll have a lot of time for my boy…’

‘Really? What kind of criteria is that?’ His words were full of absurd, but he didn’t seem to care.

‘Oh, do you remember my question during our first meeting?’ he spoke, as if he suddenly recalled something. ‘I asked you what you’ve been doing last night… I tried to find out if you had a girlfriend.’

‘A girlfriend? Why?’

‘That’s obvious! You can’t kiss a random chick while my Minnie is next to you, listening…’

‘I can’t kiss a random chick, but I can kiss Minnie?’ I asked, amused with his way of thinking.

‘Exactly,’ he said and then frowned his eyebrows. ‘Well, I didn’t expect it to turn out this way, but that’s even better. I’m proud of myself.’ He smiled brightly. I really enjoyed our little conversation and even planned on asking another question, but suddenly the door opened again and Taemin came back to the living room.

‘Minho?’ he asked emptiness.

‘I’m here.’ I grabbed his hand and pulled him close. Although he followed my suggestion and sat on my lap, it took me just one glance to realize that something was wrong. ‘Taemin? What happened? What did she tell you?’ I asked in worry, but he just shrugged.

‘Everything’s fine, really,’ he claimed, his voice calm and indifferent. It was frustrating, the way he could hide his feelings behind the mask, that he learned to put on through the years of loneliness. Sometimes I still couldn’t tell if he was honest or just pretending, so that I didn’t have to worry. ‘She’s moody and it makes me sick sometimes,’ he spoke again, aware of the meaning of my silence.

‘So why are you shaking?’ I asked, caressing his back to calm him. I noticed the shadow that came across his face, but one blink of my eyes and it was gone, replaced by a delicate, embarrassed smile.

‘I’m jittering,’ he confessed, and I needed a few seconds to realize that he was talking about tomorrow’s show.

‘I already told you that our correspondance des arts will enchant every single person. How did mister Kwon call us? A perfect pair of artists?’ I said and Taemin laughed under his breath, recalling the day when our teacher accidentally gave us a chance to get to know each other better and become close. I felt the boy’s cold hands on my cheeks, as he was studying the structure of my face. He brushed his thumb across my jawline and then moved it around my eye. He let his finger slide down my nose and finally reached the softness of lips. For a few long moments he was just touching my lips lightly, his fingers tickling my skin. Then he placed both of his hands on my cheeks and kissed me delicately, thoughtfully. It was a slow and deep kiss, as if he was trying to learn the taste of my lips, the shape of my face, the warmth of my breath, so that he could remember it forever. I was surprised with the softness of his kiss. It was different from his usual passion. But I enjoyed it and loved it with every single bit of my heart, letting us to drown in this lazy, tender closeness.

We didn’t even notice that Jonghyun had left the apartment. When I said that it’s late and I have to go, Taemin didn’t say a single word. He just hugged me, staying in my warmth embrace for a long time. Then he pulled away and raised his head, a weird smile forming on his lips.

‘See you tomorrow, Tae.’

‘Goodnight, Minho…’

I turned away, heading towards the door, but I didn’t manage to get there, as Taemin suddenly grasped one of my sleeves. I looked at him, surprised. Something weird was happening, but I couldn’t understand what made me feel so nervous.

‘I love you, Min,’ he said, giving me a heart attack. These were the words that until now he used only once. He wasn’t the type of person that tend to confess their feelings easily. I watched him carefully, but I couldn’t find anything suspicious in his soft smile and blushed cheeks.

‘I love you, too, Tae. And now we have to rest. Tomorrow’s a big day,’ I said and he nodded. I hugged him for the last time and left the flat.


	14. Chapter 12

I waved my hand, right in front of Kibum’s face, but his eyes did not open. Neither did his body move.

‘Did he fall asleep?’ I wondered, watching him being curled up on a sofa in a comfortable position. His expression was truly amusing. No sign of his normal mischievousness… just some kind of tenderness. I knew him very well, but it was the first time I saw him having such expression. He must have had a very nice dream, I couldn’t find any other explanation. For a second I wanted to leave him like this, because he was just too peaceful to be made fun of. But then Kibum grinned widely and I felt an urge to take a photo of this hilarious sight, just to be able to tease him later. I grabbed my mobile and prepared to take an evidence of his pleasant dream. I didn’t manage to, though, because my friend’s peaceful expression suddenly changed into a grimace.

‘Yah! What the hell are you doing?!’ A pair of furious eyes was burning a hole in my face. Kibum was Kibum again. I sighed heavily and turned off the camera. Kibum took off his headphones and only then I realized he’s been listening to the music for this whole time.

‘What were you listening to? It must have been a very pleasant experience…’ I teased him and he unexpectedly turned red, at the same time trying to hide his MP3 player. I quickly approached him and pulled it out of his hand. Kibum glared at me, furious.

‘Give it back to me right now, you outgrown idiot!’ he shouted, standing up. Even though he was annoyed as hell, he didn’t manage to win with my long arms.

‘Hm, let’s see what Key is trying to hide so hard. Are you ashamed of your music taste? Don’t tell me that you like…’ I stopped, when the music filled my ears. I didn’t know the song, but I certainly knew the voice. It was so familiar. I didn’t manage to listen to it longer and more carefully, though. Kibum pulled the device out of my hands.

‘Happy now?’ he growled, hurryingly packing up his things.

‘Was it… Jonghyun?’ I asked in disbelief, still unsure if I heard it right.

‘Maybe,’ he spoke coldly, but I could see the faint blush covering his cheeks.

‘Where did you get that from? Are you his fan? Do you like him? Don’t say that… are you guys really dating?’

‘Minho!’ He glared at me again. ‘You act like a teenage girl,’ he attacked me, trying to hide his embarrassment. I remained silent, not giving him a chance to change the subject. Kibum rolled his eyes and sat back on the sofa. Taking this as a good sign, I sat on a chair, facing him.

‘So…’ I spoke awkwardly. It was the first time I saw Kibum being like this. Usually it was hard to see him blushing, but now his whole face became red. ‘I thought Jonghyun was a one-night stand…’

‘I thought so, too!’ he burst out with frustration. Then he calmed down a bit and crossed his arms on his chest. ‘And then he asked me out and…’

‘And?’

‘I know how it must look in your eyes!’ he spoke, annoyed. ‘I went there with an intention to end this relationship…’

‘And even so…’

‘Can you stop interrupting me? It all started when he complimented my hat. Do you understand what it means? To compliment it, he had to first NOTICE it and that’s not so obvious, men are ignorant and blind…’

‘Kibum…’

‘What is more, he pulled the chair out for me. You know, for cultural people it’s a common thing, but I never thought this idiot would know a little bit of savoir vivre.’

‘And that’s why…’

‘And you know what he did next? He gave me his CD. Isn’t it cheeky? I should have thrown this worthless bribery instrument out!’

‘So…’

‘And then I thought: Ha! Over my dead body! I’ll listen to it even if it’s the worst piece of a musical shit ever!’

‘What…’

‘Eventually… he asked me out again and I agreed.’ Kibum took a deep breath and I couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing. This friend was giving me love advices do often, that it was hilarious to watch him acting like this. Now he was the one who clearly needed some help. ‘Yeah, very funny,’ he snorted, his fingers nervously playing with one of his earrings.

‘Sorry, but now you’re the one who’s acting like a teenage girl…’ I teased him, aware of the fact that he’s going to kill me any second with his glares. But then Key surprised me once again, not reacting to my teasing. He lowered his head and kept on turning golden earring in his hand.

‘You know… I guess I like him,’ he spoke quietly. I raised my eyebrows, not expecting such honesty. It was so extraordinary to hear Kim Kibum shyly confessing his feelings like this. He was serious with Jonghyun. I suddenly regretted all of my previous teasing. ‘Maybe he’s not quite intelligent…’ said Key. ‘…nor eloquent…but something in his smile and voice makes me feel so warm inside. Look, even such a dumbass as you have found his love… So I think Jonghyun deserves it, too…’

As soon as I heard Kibum’s statement, my regret disappeared. Now I wanted to tease him even more. I didn’t have a chance to, though. Kibum suddenly stood up and clapped his hands.

‘I think it’s time for you, my dear,’ he said, his normal confident-self back again. I followed his suggestion and stood up, too, suddenly feeling the stress taking over my mind and body again. Kibum approached me and fixed the collar of my shirt. ‘You’re annoying and nosy, but well… I wish you good luck anyway…’ he said, patting my arm. He sent me the last encouraging smile before I left the room.

~*~

I rubbed my temples, as I glanced around the classroom nervously. All of the participants of The Arts’ Unity Day were instructed to gather here much earlier than the guests of the event. That’s how I ended up in the crowded room, observing students around me. I felt sudden thankfulness towards my crazy pink-haired friend, because all of the participants looked extremely elegant. If I’d showed up in any of my old clothes, I would look completely ridiculous among them.

I fixed my collar and glanced at instruments gathered in the classroom. I was almost sure that Taemin could play most of them as skillfully, as he did with violin and piano. However, it was really difficult to imagine him with an electric guitar or drums. On the other hand… such rebel version of Taemin was as enchanting as the normal one. It would fit his character. He might have looked like an angel, but in fact he was a little devil. My boyfriend dressed in leather, head banging to the rhythm, his long hair completely messy and sexy… I had to stop my imagination. But on the other hand, Taemin dressed in white, tenderly touching the strings of a golden harp, creating heavenly music… Every single version of this boy was able to take my breath away.

My eyes landed on the group of dancers, rehearsing a complicated choreography. Taemin as a dancer? I had to concentrate to imagine something like this. His body moving to the rhythm, his hands waving in the air, his legs making him swing along with the music… The vision itself was so hot, that I suddenly felt glad that my boyfriend is not into dancing. It would be the end of me. I shook my head, trying to concentrate on the reality. This boy kept on making me crazy even when he was not around.

I sighed and glanced at the corner of the classroom. Weird noises could be heard, as the vocal group was having their rehearsal, too. Despite all of the imaginations that I had, singing Taemin was the thing that I wanted to experience the most. I didn’t even know why, I just needed to hear his singing voice. I certainly did not believe that he can’t sing. He was a perfectionist, that’s why he didn’t believe in his own skills. But I knew I would fell in love with his voice as soon as he shows it to me. Thanks to the promise that he’d made, I was sure that one day I will be able to hear his singing.

My eyes caught the familiar face and I walked towards my colleague.

‘You’re working hard, hyung,’ I spoke and Onew looked up to face me, his expression a bit uncomfortable. Since our school trip he acted colder than before. He stopped conspiring with Taemin, as if he was scared I would beat him up. I wanted us to be on friends’ terms, but I couldn’t help myself being glad that he stopped pretending to flirt with my boyfriend. It had been honestly nerve-wrecking.

‘Yeah, we’re about to do the sound check.’ He nodded, writing something on a sheet of paper full of musical notes. ‘And where is Taemin?’ he asked, suddenly realizing, that I’m alone.

‘I would like to know it, too…’ I spoke sadly. ‘I’ll try calling him once again.’ After these words I left the noisy room and searched for a quiet place to make a call.

I was nervous. I thought we would arrive at the place together, as we did every day. However, this morning Taemin called me to say that I should go alone and he would join me later. I could hear something weird in the tone of his voice, but he didn’t give me any chance to find out what’s wrong. I wanted to go and pick him up anyway, but there was no time for this. At least one of the participants had to appear in the academy much earlier, so that they wouldn’t disqualify our team. Professors still did not know that Taemin didn’t appear on time. And he was so late. It made me extremely nervous. At first I thought that he’s just jittering. I knew it must have been hard for him to show up on stage after what happened at the school trip. But we both knew this situation wouldn’t repeat. Guests of the event consisted of representatives of most prestigious universities in country. Friends and family members were invited, too. I was actually worried that Taemin’s mother had decided to come and ruin his mood. The pressure she put on this boy was the worst thing ever.

I pressed the green headphone once again, but with no effect.

‘There you are, Choi.’ Kibum’s voice echoed in the empty corridor. I looked up and faced him and Jonghyun, walking hand in hand.

‘Hi, frog-eyed, how…’

‘Where is Taemin?’ I cut him off, receiving a surprised expression as an answer.

‘I thought he’s with you…’ he said, scratching his head. ‘Never before had I seen him being late. This kid is punctual as a French clock…’

‘Swiss, Jjongie, Swiss…’ Kibum corrected. Jonghyun smiled brightly and back hugged him, placing his chin on my friend’s shoulder. They looked so cute together, that in other circumstances I would love to tease them a little bit. But I wasn’t in the mood for laughter. Something was certainly wrong. I could feel my heart racing nervously inside of my chest. I was scared.

‘Excuse me,’ I said, not even looking at my friends, and rushed through the corridor. My quick steps echoed loudly, making my heart beat even faster. I came back to the crowded classroom and searched for my boy nervously. As soon as I entered the room, Onew hyung appeared again. He approached me with a weirdly scared expression.

‘Minho… something unexpected happened,’ he said, avoiding my eyes.

‘Speak,’ I snapped harshly, too nervous to behave properly.

‘Professor Kwon ordered me to do something weird,’ he kept on mumbling and I grasped his arms and shook him, making him look me in the eyes.

‘Tell me what’s going on already!’ I shouted, not minding the surrounding nor the scared expression of hyung.

‘He told me to cross Taemin out from the list of the participants…’ I didn’t heard the rest of his sentence, as I stormed out of the room and started running in an exit direction. Hundreds of thoughts were speeding through my head, as I tried to figure out what might have happened. I was doing my best to think rationally, but I was so scared that something really bad made Taemin not come, nor contact me. Was he sick? Was he hurt? I was so scared to imagine.

I ran on people, I ignored the traffic lights, I didn’t pay attention to absolutely anything and it was a miracle that I reached the place in safety. Seeing Taemin’s tenement house, I felt an abrupt pain inside of my chest. It was more intense than my previous nervousness. It was a fear. I was afraid what I would see, once I enter this familiar flat.

The last part of the distance was the hardest one, as I couldn’t even catch my breath. My legs were against my mind, making me stumble on a staircase. With shaking hands I took the keys out of my pocket.

‘Taemin?!’ I shouted, sliding key into the hole. Silence was the only answer. Silence and something else, that I couldn’t recognize. Something way too familiar and weirdly nerve-wrecking. Finally, I opened the door and entered the apartment. There was an unexpected aura of emptiness inside of the flat. Walls seemed to whisper quietly, as I walked through the hall, searching for the love of my life. But what made me shiver was the sound that I heard earlier, by the door, now clearer and louder, coming from behind the closed door of Taemin’s room. The trembling melody of violin was cutting the dead silence of the flat. Not enchanting, not enriching, but cutting. I gulped loudly, following the music. I knew this melody. The most important melody in my life. The one that Taemin played for me, to confess his feelings. The one that painted hearts with red, that made lips touch. How could it be that this tender melody, that brought only beautiful memories, was now so lonely, so scary, echoing deeply inside of my chest?

I took the last shaky step and pushed the door.

Taemin’s room was scarily empty. The cold wind was storming in through an opened window, along with some lost snowflakes. There was no books on the shelves and no clothes in the wardrobe. Everything almost screamed with painful absence. Finally, my eyes landed on the source of this scary and yet so beautiful music. A tiny CD player was placed on a desk in the corner of the room. The device seemed to be laughing at me, rudely singing with the stolen voice of Taemin’s violin. The real instrument was nowhere to be found, as well as its owner. I understood absolutely nothing. The only things I could feel were emptiness and pain, as my world seemed to be crushing down on me. I had no idea what happened, where Taemin was, and the most important – why my heart suddenly felt so cold. Colder than the winter outside.

The melody of our love was hurting my ears and stabbing my heart. It sang about a farewell that I didn’t want to accept.

~*~

One month later

I glanced at my watch. It was almost seven o’clock in the evening. I rubbed my face, trying to get rid of tiredness. I slowly headed to the kitchen. I put the kettle on, in order to make some tea. I started to tap on the worktop with my fingers, impatiently waiting for the water to be ready.

I covered my back with a sweater, to save myself from the coldness of the last winter’s breath. Equipped with a mug of steaming tea, I headed to the living room. I opened a big window and sat comfortably on a window ledge, which was my favorite place in a whole flat.

The only view from my window was an old and ugly tenement house, the same as the one I lived in. Flaky plaster, rusted drainpipes and mossy roof, that’s what my eyes  were meeting whenever I sat and watched the world outside. I took a sip of hot drink and fixed my eyes on the window in front of mine. It was closed, silent and sad. The paint on the window-sill was flaking off, and the interior of the flat was fading into darkness. I fixed my eyes on this black, dead hole. It was beautifully decorated with the blooming branches of the trees, that just woke up from their winter sleep. My sad eyes glanced at the ground between two buildings, noticing the last sign of melting snow. The last sign of his presence in my life.

He, the boy from the opposite tenement house, the person that unexpectedly appeared along with his music, enchanting my heart and senses, just to fade away one day, leaving me with the companion of scary silence. Not magical, not beautiful, not winter-like. This silence was heavy, empty and toxic. Lonely.

I sighed and put the mug on a sill, my hand automatically reaching for an envelope that has been waiting on my desk for a few hours. With fast beating heart I teared the expensive, soft paper, and a CD fell out of the envelope, landing on my lap. It didn’t have any signs nor letters on it. Just a simple shining round disc. Even so, it made me so nervous to just look at it. I couldn’t be sure what I was going to hear in a few seconds.

The clock struck seven and my shaking hands put the disc in a CD player. It was the same one that I found in his flat on the day when my life turned into a nightmare. This tiny device became my only companion in the struggles of longing. I pressed the play button and fixed my cushions, placing the drawing block on my lap.

A calm melody filled the room, and I hardly could take a deep breath, hearing in those sounds way more than anyone on this Earth. More than musicians and critics. In this shaky music I heard Taemin. I heard his stubbornness. I heard his perfectionism. I heard his quiet whispers and loud screams. I heard words never spoken, but recorded on this CD. The sounds were touching my memories, making them brighten up again for a moment, still alive, still blooming with longing love. The memories where mixing with music notes and flying across the room, out to the spring evening outside. I covered my face with my hands, waiting for the touching speech to finish and Taemin’s voice to fade, leaving me alone with silence again. The song slowly met its warm, but somehow painful end. I looked up and took the disc out of the player, just to place it next to other similar CDs, each one containing a special message.

The first letter from Taemin came to me a week after his unexpected leaving. A letter? I decided to call it like this. CDs that I received each time held a different record, but all of them were undoubtedly sang by the familiar violin. Despite the music, I never received a single word. The envelopes didn’t have an address of the sender on them. I tried to explain it somehow to myself. Taemin was never good with words. Even when he wanted to confess his feelings, he didn’t verbalize it. He used his music to tell me he loved me. So it wasn’t surprising that his letters were consisting of sounds and music notes only. It was the only way he could show me how he’s feeling, what he’s doing and thinking at the moment. I could still hear the first letter he sent me. Its’ heart-rending melody was perfectly fitting to the despair that I was feeling. He felt the same.

Even though I received the mysterious letters, I still had no idea what had actually happened. Jonghyun informed me about gossips that were around. It was said that Taemin’s mother have forced him to leave, because she didn’t want her son to hang out with someone like me, who had a bad impact on him. I didn’t know what to think and who to believe. I was sure that my violinist must have had a serious reason to decide on facing the problem on his own. Of course, I tried contacting him countless times, but with no result. Even so, I lived with hope. Each envelope in my mailbox hurt my heart, making me miss him thousand times more. But the letters were a confirmation. They informed me that he’s still there for me, even if far away. That he still remembers me, just like I remember him. I was thankful that he kept on sending these letters. I couldn’t even imagine what would happen to me, if I lost him completely. I was hurt and lonely, but his music, his words gave me comfort and hope.

I glanced at Taemin’s window for the last time this evening, trying hard not to think about all of the memories that were connected with this old, ugly façade. How is it possible that this dark hole in a wall became the center of my world?

I rubbed my eyes, removing the dust of the past. I closed the window, not wanting to hear the noise of birds’ fights, that dared to take over the territory which once belonged to the moonlight music of Taemin. You may call me a fool, but I kept on believing. As long as new letters kept on appearing in my mailbox, as long as I could see the familiar shape of the opposite window, I had a strength to believe that one day I will be able to hear Taemin’s music with my own ears again. That I will become the victim of the spell casted by the violinist from the opposite tenement house.


	15. Epilogue

~3 years later~

‘Minho,’ spoke a voice behind my back. A single snowflake fell from the depth of the sky and landed softly on a windowsill.

‘Mmm?’ I mumbled thoughtlessly. For a brief moment the snowflake stayed still, giving me a chance to observe it. Then it melted down, mixing with the whiteness of the sill. I felt a bit sad, but then the melted snowflake became forgotten, as the other one appeared on the darkness of a night sky, gracefully dancing right before my eyes.

‘Minho, I’m speaking to you!’ The voice was annoyed.

A snowstorm burst into the room through an opened window. I greeted it with a weak smile. I didn’t mind the cold wind ruffling my hair. It was actually quite pleasant. Refreshing. The noise of the wind obscured all of the useless and tiring thoughts inside of my head. If I could, I would sit there and watch the snow play for the rest of my days, enjoying the peaceful emptiness of my heart. Contemplating the beauty of the winter.

‘Mhmm…’ I mumbled once again, hoping for the voice to disappear. It was irritating, it was bothering me. I wanted to learn by heart all of those graceful snowflake creations, so that I could draw them later on.

‘Enough of this ridiculousness,’ the voice spoke in a harsh manner, and the window was shut down suddenly. I turned back to finally face my friend and glare at him furiously. My expression didn’t work, though. Kibum was too stubborn. ‘Minho, I invited you to England so that you could relax a little bit, not to stare blankly through the window and, by the way, get sick from the cold wind!’

I tried to look away. I didn’t want to have this kind of conversation again. It was just too painful. I preferred thoughtlessly staring at the winter sky. It was better this way. Lighter. But it was way too naive to believe that such person as Kim Kibum would let me be alone with my loneliness. I felt his hand on my shoulder.

‘Minho, I know it hurts, but it’s been three fucking years! Pull yourself together!’

‘Key… I’m fine.’ I smiled weakly and softly took his hand off my shoulder. ‘It’s just this season…’ I muttered, once again glancing at the snowflakes outside. ‘It will be better, once it’s over,’ I added honestly. At least, that’s what I wanted to believe in. It wasn’t that bad usually. I was attending classes and drawing work arts. I kept on doing everything I had been doing before I met him…

I felt a sudden pang of pain in my chest. I frowned, annoyed with my own weak self. It’s just… the winter. The winter that always brings too many memories. I can’t stop myself from thinking of him, when I see his favorite season all around me.

'Minho, you can't just hibernate whenever it's snowing...' said Kibum, a bit softer than a minute ago. I appreciated his care, but I certainly preferred to be alone. My friend remained silent for a few moments, as if he waited for some reaction. Then he turned round and left the room. I sighed, relieved. I grabbed a sketchbook and started to wander around with the pencil, just to make some use of my hands. Dots of falling snowflakes filled the gray sky, that seemed to be breaking down, overweighed with this graphite sadness.

And in this gloomy landscape, on the edge of a wooden bench, standing below an impressive, old tree, a lonely boy was sitting. Dressed in a dark coat, he looked as if he was trying to become a unify with shadows that surrounded him. Unsuccessfully. Pale skin of his face was visible even in the center of this darkness. The boy seemed to be listening to the sounds of the night and absorb as much of them as he could.

I threw the sketchbook away and hid my face in my hands. It was happening again. In days like this even drawing wasn't able to give me comfort. Memories kept on flooding my head like an unstoppable river. There was no way to run away. Three years? How can it be? Everything was so fresh in my memory. His slender hand closed in mine. His harsh expression that could bring me to do literally anything. His cute embarrassment and that first kiss that I had stolen on that day in the corridor. His heated body and long hair on the white pillow. 'I love you, Min...' still rang in my ears. The last and most important words in my miserable life.

Have I ever tried contacting him? Countless of times. I haven't received a single word of explanation. At the beginning, I lived with hope given me by his musical letters. But as the time passed and nothing changed, those beautiful songs he sang for me, turned into some kind of poison that blocked me form coming back to a normal life. A life without him. I wasn’t able to count all of those nights that I’d spent on thinking of him and trying to understand why my life had to be destroyed that way. Obliviousness was the cruelest torture.

I rubbed my temples and glanced at the window, trying to get my mind off once again. It didn’t work. The storm in my heart was unstoppable.

‘Dress up,’ spoke Kibum. I looked at him, confused. He was standing in the threshold, his fingers buttoning up a coat. His eyes seemed to be observing me strangely. I cursed in my mind. It wasn’t hard to guess how bad I felt at the moment. Key was way too smart to get fooled easily.

‘Why?’ I asked, reluctantly standing up. The truth was, I desperately needed something to do. Anything that would help me to forget, at least for a moment.

‘You’ll see.’ His eyes sparkled suspiciously, as he spoke. I could guess he was planning something evil. I was too tired to care, though. ‘Don’t look like a peasant.’

I froze, hearing his words, dangerously familiar. Key was still observing me in this weird kind of way that made me wonder what actually was on his mind. Finally, he threw me something to wear and pushed me to the bathroom. I did not protest. After a few minutes I was ready to go wherever he would lead me to and do whatever he would make me do. Just to forget.

~*~

Have you ever tried walking down the crowded street while completely ignoring all of your surroundings? Very absorbing activity. Carefully studying cracks on a glazed pavement, I kept on obediently following my friend’s footsteps. From time to time I bumped into people and someone’s eyes, nose or lips blinked on the background of endless gray faces. At such moments I mumbled my apologies, but couldn’t concentrate on these gray people, as my eyes were running away, up to the satin sky marked with white snowflakes. I was wondering – is he looking at the same curtain of blackness as I do?

I leaned back, letting the cold wind touch the hot skin of my neck. I didn’t care about the coldness. The only thing that mattered was this snowy sky that seemed to be the only bridge between me and him. Watching the dancing snowflakes I had this strong feeling that he certainly is somewhere in this world, standing with his face turned to the sky, enjoying the subtle touch of the snow, just like I do. Just like this day when he invited me to the opera.

The sky was decorating the earth with delicate white petals. The first snow this winter. My companion stood in the center of a square that was placed in front of the philharmonic hall building. He leaned back his head, letting the snowflakes to melt on his face. I was observing him, fascinated, when he started to gyrate, with unhidden pleasure greeting the winter. When he finally stopped a bright smile was decorating his face.

‘Minho, Minho, do you like winter?’ he asked in the emptiness, losing the direction in which he should speak. I approached him, giving him my hand so that he could feel my presence.

A black contour of a building blocked out the view on the sky. I shook my head, getting rid of the painful memories and glanced at Kibum, confused. Apparently he had been speaking to me this whole time, trying hard to make a conversation. I didn’t remember a single word he said.

‘…nevertheless, you won’t regret it, I can guarantee you that.’ As soon as I heard these words, I felt anxious about the target of our walk.

‘I won’t regret what?’ I asked, finally getting my senses back. Key stopped walking just to look at me in this strange, studious way. There was something mysterious hiding in his eyes, but I couldn’t find out why his behavior made me so nervous. Eventually, he shook his head and grabbed my sleeve, pulling me to face an old building with a beautiful façade. I gulped loudly. ‘Kibum, is this…’ I mumbled shakily and tried to escape, but my friend’s hand didn’t let me run away and pushed me through the front door.

‘Stop complaining. It will be nice. You need it,’ he said firmly.

‘But a philharmonic hall? I thought you would take me to a more appropriate place!’ I spoke a bit too loud, as some people glared at us, irritation painting their faces. ‘I really don’t want to be here…’ I confessed, this time quiet and suppliant, trying to soften my friend’s heart. I didn’t even know why, but being at such place made me want to run away as quickly as possible. I hated the floor made of marble, the shinning golden lamps, the whispers of people waiting for the performance, even the smell of the dust that elegantly covered old balustrades. This place wasn’t similar to the Seoul’s philharmonic hall, the one I was invited to centuries ago. And even so, I felt irrationally anxious at the perspective of spending a few hours at such surroundings, listening to a concert. It was too much for me. But Kibum didn’t seem to care. He held my arm tightly, pulling me through the crowd of people, straight to the concert hall.

We took our sits and the voices of people became quiet, finally changing into soft whispers. I was sitting stiffly and nervously, my mind torturing me with memories again. The last time I sat in such place was during the worst musical show I’ve ever attended in my whole life. And the only thing I could remember from that evening was his beautiful, calm face and this annoying strand of hair that I wanted to tuck behind his ear so badly.

‘Minho, I hope that one day you’ll thank me…’ whispered Kibum, a second before the lights turned off. What the hell did he mean?! Being here was the last thing that was able to help me. I haven’t felt that bad in months. I didn’t know where to look, what to do with my hands and, the most important, how to defend myself from all of those memories.

Musicians started their show, but I couldn’t care less. I turned to my friend, stupidly hoping he would let me leave the hall. However, Kibum was indifferent to my painful, begging expression. His eyes were fixed at the stage and he seemed to be very concentrated on the performance. Way too much concentrated. Or maybe I was just losing my mind. I scrunched up a concert brochure that someone gave me by the door, not even caring to glance at it once. The time seemed to be slowing down with each passing sound. I closed my eyes and hid my face in my hands, trying to hibernate till the end of the show.

And that was the moment something strange happened. I heard whispers around me and suddenly I had a strange kind of feeling inside of my heart. I looked up, blinded by the stage lights.

My ears realized faster than my brain. There was a lonely violin voice, filling the air with its grace, outstanding in the music of the whole orchestra. My heart stopped inside of my chest, too shocked at this familiar voice, at this forgotten melody. The air was painted with a crystalline music that made the audience sigh in admiration. A mysterious silhouette of the violinist was hidden in the shadows, but I could see it moving softly along with the voice of the instrument. They were an unity, knowing and understanding each other so well, better than anyone else. At the beginning notes were high, slightly trembling, but as the song got braver, they fell down, melted, just like the snow melts when it welcomes spring. I can’t remember the moment I stood up, but as soon as I noticed it, I felt an urge to run. To ignore the people, the concert, the orchestra. To fall between the stage shadows and embrace my moonlight violinist, so that he would never disappear again. I couldn’t hear anything but this enchanting song that made my heart flutter. I made one step, but sudden harsh grip of Kibum’s hand on my arm stopped me from doing something stupid. I glanced at my friend, hoping to find the answers to my questions in his smart eyes.  What I needed was a confirmation that this trembling melody isn’t just a dream. That behind this red river of sounds there really hides the boy that I missed so much, the one who could fire me up with his coldness and seduce me with his innocence. I noticed a sign of smile, forming in the corners of Kibum’s lips, but then my eyes once again turned to the stage, as if I was afraid that one second of distraction would be enough for the dream to suddenly end.

The last violin’s breath rang perfectly along the other instruments, and finally the stage became silent. I felt my legs weakening from all of the nervousness and at the same time I felt like running. I tried to escape, but Kibum was there to stop me once again.

‘Stay here, you idiot. It’s not over yet,’ he whispered, pulling me back to my sit. The hall slowly emptied, left with the smell of guests’ expensive perfume only. Kibum stood up as well and quickly left the hall. As soon as he disappeared behind the velvet red door, I rushed between sits. But then I froze, as suddenly the center of the stage was filled with golden light.

‘Taemin…’ I spoke huskily, as if I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a dream. That it was really him sitting there. Beautiful and unreachable. The one who liked flowers. The one who painted my face with a white color. The one who played for me each night. The one who had a habit of turning the light on, even though he didn’t need it. The biggest lover of the winter. The one who never let me to draw him. A silent sigh escaped my lips, as my mind was taking the shortest travel through most precious memories.

Even though the boy was dressed in black, he still shinned in my eyes. His long hair was pinned up on the back of his head and some loose strands were playing with the golden light of the reflector. He clenched his fist in a sudden sign of nervousness. A moment later he straightened his back and opened his eyes. It felt as if his mysterious eyes were staring straight at me, straight through me, straight at my heart. I knew they were. Even if in fact he couldn’t even see me, I knew he could feel my presence, as strongly as I could feel his. I wanted to touch him, to feel his porcelain skin under mine, to entangle my fingers in his copper hair. But I remained still, enchanted with his expression. I knew this stubborn face just way too well.

The boy raised his hand and that was the moment when I noticed a microphone he’s been holding. It looked strange in his slender hand, that was made to hold a violin bow. For a second I could see a faint smile, forming in the corner of his lips. He took a deep breath.

And started to sing. I felt weak at the sound of his voice. It was a long forgotten melody that I missed so much it hurt. My ears could not believe that for the very first time Taemin’s song consists of real words, not only secret messages, hidden in the tones of violin music.

'Fine...' he snapped, irritated. 'After The Arts Unity Day I'll sing for you, Minho,' he promised shyly. I felt a rush of happiness and satisfaction, and smiled so brightly that Jonghyun rolled his eyes.

The memory appeared in my head and flooded my heart with softness. Here he was, after three long years of parting, three years of silence enriched only by his music letters. Here he was, standing on the stage and fulfilling his promise. Seriousness painted across his face made the song sound even more powerful. His soft voice seemed to be embracing my hurting heart in a melodic sign of apology. Taemin let the music lead him in the same way he did in companion of a violin. Each sound of his voice hid millions of colors, as it got braver and braver, along with the song. The light glimmered in his eyes, showing the shinning tears that he tried to hold back. This one sight was enough for me to break the spell and rush between two rows of sits, straight in the stage direction. But then the song met its end and the hall became dark once again.

‘Taemin?!’ I screamed desperately, staring at the emptiness. ‘Taemin, please!’ I was stumbling on steps and sits. Panic clenched my throat and filled the heart that minutes ago had rebirthed with hope. I had to reach the stage, even though I couldn’t see a thing. I just couldn’t give up now. I knew Taemin was waiting for me.

‘Stop screaming, you idiot.’ I heard a familiar voice. Strong arms locked around my body, so that I couldn’t move. ‘We have to behave. The fact that he was able to borrow the stage for a few moments is a miracle itself. Don’t ruin it.’

‘Jonghyun?! What the hell are you doing here? Let me go, I have to…’

‘Calm down, my frog-eyed friend. He’s already waiting for you.’ This one sentence was able to shut me up. I just glanced at Jonghyun with anger, but he only smiled back playfully and led me to the door. ‘Long time no see…’ he spoke, glancing at me. ‘How long was it…?’

‘Jonghyun, maybe it’s not quite polite, but I don’t fucking care about the calculation of our meetings! I have to…’

‘Chill out, my dear. You need a few words of explanation first.’ Kibum came out of nowhere and smirked at me with triumph. He ignored my protests and took me arm in arm, walking slowly through a dark, empty corridor. I was so frustrated. I wanted to run or fly, just to finally see the evidence of his close existence. Just to ensure myself that Taemin’s presence wasn’t just a product of my imagination. But no, Mr. and Mr. Kim decided to have a sweet little conversation with me in the most inappropriate moment of my life!

‘Minho… three years ago something not quite pleasant happened…’ started Jonghyun, surprisingly carefully.

‘You don’t say! I didn’t notice…’ I snapped back, not able to calm down. Jonghyun grasped my arm and pushed me on a chair that was standing in the corner of a dark corridor. Kibum approached me, irritation visible in his eyes.

‘Won’t you stop interrupting already? You wouldn’t be here if not for our help, so calm the fuck down. Your frog-brain must have lost all of its functionality. The faster we finish with this talk, the faster you will be free to hug your damn boyfriend.’ Kibum was so sharp that I lowered my head and gave up with fighting.

‘Why didn’t you tell me I will meet him here?’ I asked, trying to give my friends a sign that I’m ready to cooperate, just to finish this quickly. ‘You could have saved me from the shock…’

‘My dear, if you had read the brochure that they gave you, you wouldn’t have been so surprised,’ said Kibum, a piece of paper waving right before my eyes. ‘And… the whole situation wouldn’t be so charming, don’t you think?’ He smiled in this evil kind of way. ‘You can’t possibly imagine how much fun I had watching your stupid expression!’

‘Kibum…’ I growled, and surprisingly it did work. Both of my friends gave me a serious look.

‘Three years ago, a day before your performance, Taemin had a call from his mother,’ spoke Jonghyun. His usually smiling face was now nervous and sad. I could notice a tiredness, suddenly visible in his eyes.

‘Yeah, she called him to make a fuss over your relationship,’ explained Kibum. I recalled his shaking voice and his arms hugging me so tightly. I knew he behaved strangely, I could feel it in every move he made. But the face remained emotionless. How could I let him trick me so easily? How stupid I was, not doing anything? I had so many questions without answers. And the most important was…

‘So why did Taemin lie to me?’ Jonghyun and Key exchanged glances.

‘Minho… I have no idea how much luck does it take to find someone like Taemin and to own his heart…’ spoke Jonghyun. ‘But you have to know, this boy is really one of a kind.’ Kibum nodded at his words.

‘Can’t you just tell me what is going on?!’ I shouted, being on the edge of everything. Kibum looked me in the eyes.

‘Minho, he did it for you,’ he said, but it did not help me to understand anything. I felt so lost.

‘I’m sure you know that Taemin’s mother was a very powerful woman,’ spoke Jonghyun. ‘She threatened him that if he won’t break off contacts with you, she’ll destroy your artistic future. Taemin knew she’s really ready to do such thing. Do you understand now? He disappeared to save you...’ Jonghyun’s words sounded so bitter in my ears.

‘Enough of this. Where is this bitch?’ I growled, standing up abruptly. I didn’t care about politeness anymore. This woman changed our lives into a nightmare. And she did it just to save her own good name. I felt an urge to clench my fists around his neck, so that she wouldn’t sing or say anything anymore, but two pair of hands stopped me once again.

 ‘Minho! Minho, calm the fuck down!’ shouted Kibum, losing patience. ‘The thing is… she’s dead,’ he said, watching my expression becoming lost once again.

‘What?’

‘She died a month ago. Something with her heart,’ explained Jonghyun. ‘Taemin is still in mourning.’ I rubbed my face with my hands, not quite sure if I’m still mad or just incredibly ashamed of my own stupid self.

‘I guess now you can understand why we decided to talk to you first…’ said Kibum and I nodded, feeling a late coming gratitude for my annoying friends. If I said something like this to Taemin, I would never forgive myself. ‘Two weeks ago Taemin called us to explain the situation. To be honest, it was very hard to understand what he was saying, because each of his sentences was finished with a question about you. Are you working hard, are you studying a lot, are you listening to his letters, are you thinking of him just a little… I have to admit these conversations were heartbreaking to me and I wanted to break a promise, tell you everything and then buy a ticket and bring you to London. But I just couldn’t stand up against his stubborn requests to keep it secret. Everything in its time, everything must be ready – that’s what he kept repeating and I was breaking my mind to guess what was in this kid’s head. And finally, a few days ago, I got three invitations for the concert in London’s philharmonic hall.

I was looking at them in shock, not able to believe that so many things happened right behind my back. Jonghyun patted my arm and Kibum put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

‘I think it’s time for you, my dear dumb friend. But remember – Taemin is the most precious treasure you’d ever get in your life. Don’t you dare to fuck this up.’ After this encouraging message I was pushed in a door direction. Then my friends disappeared.

Suddenly I felt so nervous. Even though an hour ago I wanted to kill anyone who would block my way to Taemin, now I couldn’t make a final step. I started to walk around, trying to come up with some kind of touching words that I would say to him. I wanted to show him all of those shadows of sleepless nights, all of those colors of my endless gratitude. But the words were useless. I knew it well. I just tried to buy some time for my own coward self. And I would have probably stood there till the end of my days, if not for the sounds that I heard from behind the closed door. The sounds that were familiar to my heart. I would always recognize them, no matter how much time passed. This time sounds weren’t as perfect as on the stage, but I could still feel the owner of this quiet music. The stream of notes led me to open the door and steal a glance.

What I saw was a beautiful old-fashioned room full of dark wooden furniture and lots of mirrors. In the center of this golden scenery, my eyes found a slender silhouette, fading in the dim light. Taemin was sitting on an old sofa, his fingers never leaving the strings of the violin. He was touching them lightly, creating an extraordinary melody that was filled with his thoughts. For a brief moment I couldn’t make any move. I was standing still, enchanted with his miraculous presence. My moonlight violinist, the person I gave my heart to. I haven’t seen him for so long, that sometimes I dared to doubt if he was real. If it wasn’t just a dream. But he was here, real and alive, his music never leaving my ears. The spell was broken the moment he raised his head and let me see his face. I rushed through the room.

‘Taemin…’ I whispered, approaching him. The boy shivered and then smiled softly. He put the violin aside and gestured for me to come closer. I made a few steps and then stopped, suddenly cautious and nervous again. It was because of me that Taemin had to suffer so much. Maybe he was angry at me? I started to consider falling on my knees and begging him for forgiveness. However, I didn’t manage to, because suddenly Taemin stood up and impatiently reached with his hand. I couldn’t object. I finally came closer to him and delicately took his hand. His scent, his breath, his slender fingers entangling with mine – it was all so real. And yet I’ve never felt so dreamlike in my whole life. So many words could have been said, but all of them disappeared somewhere in the shadows of this old, elegant room. I was looking at the strangest, the most beautiful face in this world. The brightest, even though deprived of the light of the eyes. Perfect in its imperfection.

I leaned to him and placed a short kiss on his forehead, letting my lips to taste his skin only for a second. But that was apparently not what the boy wanted. Frowned eyebrows and a glimpse of irritation, these were the signs that could mean only one thing – I’ve already managed to piss Lee Taemin off.

 ‘Imbécile’ he whispered quietly and pulled me close, letting our lips to finally touch. And that was the moment when I completely lost my mind. Haze of artistry marked my eyes once again, as our tongues met and my heart was filled with the strangest combination of colors. Taemin’s lips painted my thoughts with pathetic gold, my heart with crazy red, my soul with pure white. His presence in my arms, his fingers on my skin, his breath dancing on my lips, everything was so hard to believe in. For the first time in three years colors were intensive and beautiful again, making the sad greyness of my sketches not important anymore. For the first time the most silent, most prosaic sound was charming, and the song of our hearts connected the two parts of correspondance des arts, two parts that were empty and colorless without one another. That’s what Taemin was to me. Fulfillment of my life, that was painted in artistic colors, but useless without the charming flash of the bow and the magical voice of the violin. Without musical notes entangled with threads of colors.

‘Minho…’ I heard a voice, so quiet that if I could, I would stopped my heart from beating, just to hear it clearer. I took his hand and pulled him on the sofa. He sat on my laps, placing his head in the crook of my neck. ‘Minho, how did you like my performance?’ His question surprised me so much, that I had no idea what to say. After all of this mess, after three years of parting, after renewed meeting in the effusion of colors, he still cared the most about my opinion on his performance. I smiled softly. I didn’t manage to answer, though, because the boy’s fingers found their way to my face. Taemin delicately touched each milliliter of my skin, looking at me, the same way I did look at him since I entered the room. He very carefully investigated the shape of my eyes and the under-eye pouches. My sunken cheeks didn’t escape his notice as well. However, when he reached my smiling lips, his face brightened. ‘You liked it,’ he said, his fingers still dancing on my skin.

‘Imbécile’ I said jokingly and Taemin frowned.

‘You say it wrong. You’re really stupid.’ He slightly punched my arm. As a reply I kissed him deeply again.

Was I stupid? Of course, now and in the past as well. In the darkness of my room. In the whiteness of a snow city. In the redness of Taemin’s embrace. More stupid with each passing day, with each meeting, with each touch. Uncontrollably falling for this charming boy that held my heart.

I ruffled his soft hair with my fingers, making him smile lovingly.

In this enchanting silence of the room each breath seem to be an aria. I smiled under my breath. Yes, I was stupid. But wasn’t it the sweetest kind of stupidness? The one that let me stay in this hold embrace and think of the melodies and colors that filled our hearts, and of those musical notes written a due. The one that was driving me mad and making me do crazy things. The one that was drowning in flares and shadows.

The stupidness called love.

Listening to the sound of Taemin’s breath, I stayed still, my heart dancing with the luminance on his hair. The color of his smile made my heart skip a beat. And even though the melody of the night was coming to its diminuendo, I knew it was just a beginning. The future looked so bright with all of those empty spaces between the lines of a stave that waited for us to paint if with colors.

That was the night of our correspondance des arts. The beginning of a new song, full of stupid, cheesy lyrics. And only the birds that occupied the space between opposite windows of two tenement houses remembered the bitterness of parting, that we both decided to repaint with the mosaic of red.


End file.
